Storm Siren
by xXSpiritKeeperXx
Summary: The simple name had been dubbed onto the unknown entities due to their nature and habits of raiding. They would always, always strike during sea storms, blizzards, and any kind of atmospheric disturbance with uncanny timing and deadly efficiency. ((AU - Elsa is a pirate captain; non-related elsanna (eventually... :P ). HOSTED ON AO3, IT'S HERE FOR PUBLICITY))
1. The Fall

Reports of a pirate roaming the seas weren't an uncommon event. Pirates were bound to be on the water or in ports, waiting for each perfect chance to strike. As Arendelle was a port town, its people lived every day in a little fear of them. Not much, but enough to be a part of their lives. However, none of the rumours struck true fear into their hearts as much as those concerning the Storm Pirates.

The simple name had been dubbed onto the mysterious pirates due to their raiding habits. They would always, always strike during sea storms, blizzards, and any kind of atmospheric disturbance with uncanny timing and deadly efficiency. There was only a single survivor from any of their raided vessels, who babbled inane tales that spawned mad rumours. There was no way the storms actually _heralded_ the rogues.

With the recent loss of two of Arendelle's ships, _Kvasir_ and _Magni_, to them, unease was growing within the minds of the Queen Regent and the court. With the date teetering on the edge of summer's end, the need to trade for winter was slowly growing, leaving the fear of ransacked trade routes to grow unchecked. Furthering this unease was the southern, equatorial city of Agrabah's pact of ice trade with Arendelle during their respective dry season and winter months. It was a symbiotic relationship, as spices, livestock, foods and fabrics were readily traded for the luxurious crystalline blocks, keeping both economies thriving. As such, the trade routes were heavily guarded and often raided.

The Queen's meetings on the matter were becoming more frequent, and the toll it took on her was immense. She wasn't built for that kind of constant political debate. She'd rather be on her horse, riding cape billowing in the wind, the sun beating down on her back and the breeze howling in her ears. Couldn't they converse with the trading unions?

Today's meeting was particularly arduous on Her Majesty's ears. The monotony was chipping away at her concentration, and the light spring breezes wafting tantalisingly in through the lone open window kept directing her attention to their freshness and life, barely detectable over the flakes of snow still covering the land. Unbidden, and against her conscious will, she began daydreaming of the time she could possibly be having outside instead of cooped up in stuffy air among old, suited men, battering her ears with their banter of the various 'threats' to their companies and properties.

"... Queen Anna, did you hear a word of what I just said?"

The Queen snapped back to the present with a noncommittal grunt of surprise. "Oh- yes. Yes, of course I did, of course I was listening." She adjusted her royal violet cape and coughed. "What did you just say?"

The man sighed from across the conference table. The seven other men present showed no emotion apart from shuffling documents and clearing their throats lightly. "I told you that there's a storm brewing not too far offshore. It looks like heavy rain. This could be the only chance for months to catch the pirates that so plague our trade routes, assuming that they are hiding within this storm." He wrung his hands nervously, nearly crushing the document he was holding. His hairline was damp with sweat. "The Duke of Weselton has had the same thread of thought. He offered to send a small ship as bait, while a larger ship from Arendelle's fleet – the navy agreed on the _Sky Siren_ - went to intercept the pirate vessel or vessels, if any attacked."

Oh. Well that was interesting. Of course, The Duke wouldn't have stocked the ship with any actual supplies. The man's greed was infamous in the court. Frankly, she was surprised he'd offered to send a ship at all. However... "Did he say anything about legalities, or... nooses... legal nooses? Because he's probably done something. Are there any loopholes?" She asked warily.

The man immediately scanned the document. "He says that his ship will have soldiers on it. And whoever manages to catch the captain takes them back to their province, dead or alive. Preferably the latter." He looked up and smiled, as if trying to lessen the impact of his words, or her reply. His nervous, apologetic demeanour did nothing to stop the queen's sigh of exasperation.

"Of course he'd do something like that. I bet he's going to send his strongest men!" The queen huffed, gesticulating with her arms. "And capture the captain for himself! And then he'll conspire to question him and find their hidden hoards of stolen goods, making sure to leave them without a single coin. And then he takes them all to the gallows to – to charge them with theft, and maybe hang them—"

"Your majesty, please," the rosy-cheeked advisor Kai said, placing a hand on her shoulder as her pitch rose higher and higher. "The Duke is _not_ going to send his strongest men on a bait vessel. What do you think they should do?"

She crossed her arms and pouted. "I think they should talk to the trade unions and navy about this," she grumbled, extricating her shoulder from under his hand.

"Um – Ma'am – Your Majesty – I speak for both the navy and trade unions," the man offered timidly. Someone chuckled. She silenced them with a heated glare.

"I think the plan should go ahead," she finally announced. "We are going to catch the pirates. Hopefully the captain. And then we are going to..." She trailed off, at a loss as to what they would do next.

"... Persecute them?" The spokesman asked.

"Well I was _going_ to say exile, but I don't think that would work, seeing their current state of living anyway," The queen cut back. "I'll jail them. No talkbacks. This is happening. We're going to catch the pirates. Or pirate. The top guy." She lightly smacked the table twice, as if stamping a legal document. "And then we're going to jail them. This conference is over. Thanks for your time!" she dismissed cheerily.

She remained in her seat and Kai stood beside her as the people in the room slowly dissipated with varying degrees of disgruntlement, asking her trivial questions about the matter at hand. She would answer them and Kai would interject occasionally, as he could see her getting fatigued from court talk.

When the room was finally empty, she slumped in her seat, back curling inwards as her entire queenly facade flew out the window and she transformed into someone eighteen years of age, slumped in a chair far too large for her. Being the queen was exhausting. There was so much legal static. She had no idea how her parents did it. It was so much nicer to just be Anna.

"We're going to catch a pirate," Anna said, as if she couldn't believe it. "Or, we might catch a pirate. I hope we do." She picked at a loose thread on the hem of her skirt. "I wonder what he's going to be like."

"A crook most likely, ma'am," Kai joked. "Nothing's happened yet. And this madcap plan may not work."

Anna hummed in response, and stretched her whole body so much she nearly slid out of her chair. "I'm going to ride my horse for a while. If anyone else wants to talk to me, I'll be riding laps around troll valley."

Kai blinked at her in disbelief, adjusting a bundle of papers in his grip. He looked like a large bird ruffling its feathers. "Ma'am, that's miles away!"

"I know," Anna said cheerily. "That's why I'm going there. Consider it a six-hour vacation through woodland scenery. Maybe I'll see some deer!"

And with that she leapt up and skipped away.

xXx

Many nautical miles out to sea and five hours later, a storm was brewing.

A schooner sailed, no more than the tiniest speck on the horizon, just abreast of the darkened sky. The impending threat of being overrun did nothing to deter it from its course.

The figurehead, a valiant iron raptor surrounded by haloes of bronze lightning, crowned the vessel _Thunderhead_ as it ploughed through the waves like a knife.

Behind the wheel stood the captain. At first glance she did not appear to be female, yet there she was, spectacularly deceiving the world at large. With her stock-still body, she could be mistaken for a sculpture. Her confident stance betrayed not the slightest hint of fear. Her crisp tricorne hat sat neatly on her head, shielding her elegant face from the spring sun. Slim pants, a baggy sailor's shirt, and polished black leather boots adorned her frame. The sky was her ally, the sea was hers to control, and the land was her prey.

Not many people were on the deck. The clear sailing meant that only the rigging boys, first mate, sailing master and other able bodied sailors were on their shifts. Everything was neat and organised: calculated routes of movement for maximum efficiency and top effort from the crew garnered excellent results.

Fear was an amazing motivator.

"Captain!" A small, enthusiastic voice called out into the stark sky, "I think I see something! Whoa, whoa, hang on..." Its owner shook his telescope and put it back to his eye; a nervous habit. "Yes! Yes it is! There's another ship, captain!"

The captain turned her eyes skyward to the crow's nest. The cabin boy, gangly and uncoordinated, sat as if thrown haphazardly into the small space. The telescope was pressed eagerly into his face, next to a large, crooked nose, broken and healed from a drunken fist fight long ago. His perpetual smile framed large buck teeth, and his entire body seemed to barely contain his energy. He rested his elbows on his slight beer belly. "It's... at..." he hastily consulted a compass. "South-twenty-three-east degrees! A hundred and fifty seven true! It's so itty-bitty and tiny," he added to himself. "What are your orders, captain?" he shouted down.

The captain pondered for a moment and cleared her throat before replying, her strong voice travelling as far as it needed to go – the length of the ship – with ease. "Change course to intercept! We're going to have ourselves a little raid, gentlemen."

The crew cheered, immediately getting to action, and the boy scrambled down. The captain smirked confidently, leaving the wheel to the navigator next to her and stalking down to their cabin to dress for war.

xXx

On the very same ship that the young boy saw, a team comprised of a tiny portion of Weselton's soldiers spotted the rogue schooner. In similar fashion, the word went around about the other vessel. A signal flag was raised to _Sky Siren_ who responded in kind, and the teams mobilised. Just in case. It was no good attacking a trade ship.

As preparations finally ceased and everything was in place, a terse silence came over the crew. The tension was palpable.

All they had left to do was wait.

xXx

The rogue captain, now dressed up in elegant, form-fitting wear, stood confidently at the fore of her ship, hands on hips and one foot propped up on a crate. A delicate scimitar with a silver sheen, sharpened to a razor's edge, hung through her belt.

The wind whipped through the rigging, howling eerily as the clouds behind them began to catch up. The sails billowed. The schooner sailed towards its target.

When the ships neared, all parties seemed to hold their breath. The air of recognition, of hostility, settled over everything.

It started to hail.

Everything seemed to happen at once.

_Thunderhead_ sailed right past the bait ship. Grappling shot was fired from _Thunderhead_, latching onto the smaller ship and pulling it close. Musket shot peppered, crossbow bolts found their marks, voices filled the air with cries of adrenaline and pain, blades flashed in the light as people jumped sides to fight one on one. Powder monkeys ran up and down to the gunners. Both sides suffered losses. Sandbags were hauled out to cover the blooms of slick viscera on each deck. The flurry of action was quickly won by the rogue band, as the small Weselton force was either killed or forced below decks and cornered into surrender.

So absorbed in this easy win were the pirates, they completely missed the much more intimidating dark oak brig approaching theirs.

Shouts rang out along the deck as _Sky Siren_ rammed into the stern and Arendelle's force jumped aboard to take control of the ship. _Thunderhead_'s crew clashed with the soldiers with varying levels of success. The captain herself twirled around and raised her scimitar, deftly and literally unarming two men. Their cries of agony went unheard as she then sprinted across the deck slicing and slashing at anyone in her way, unfazed by the tiny ice spheres rolling under her feet and falling onto her hat. Two more of her men flanked her, helping forge a path as the other pirates slowly made their way along deck towards _Sky Siren_.

The cabin boy unceremoniously threw a handful of sand in someone's eyes and pushed them overboard, deftly ducking a punch thrown at him by a second attacker and stickint a foot out to trip him up and send him right after the first one. He snickered as they hit the water. The rest of the sandbag went into the blood they left behind.

Far behind them, on the bait vessel, two of Weselton's soldiers grappled with the pirates holding them back, deftly dispatching them with short swing, closed fist blows straight to the temples. With the others out for the count, the shorter, faster soldier loaded his crossbow with the fluid ease of someone having done it many times before, holding it up to his shoulder and taking careful aim.

Thirty metres away, the strongest man of Arendelle's force tackled the captain of the rogue ship. He slammed her against the guard rail, causing her to gasp in pain and falter. This was all the distraction they needed to grip her wrists in an attempt to subdue her. The captain growled, grappling with her sword, holding the other man back, back arched, teeth clenched, every muscle pushing the stronger man away as she lifted her sword to slice and maim.

Weselton's soldier fired.

An ungodly howl echoed around the boat as the captain's sword wrist was impaled by the thick steel and wood bolt, quickly followed by another thudding into her thigh, just above her knee.

The scimitar, with its silvery sheen, dropped into the sea.

Lightning cracked over _Thunderhead_, branding the collective scene into everyone's eyeballs in stark images of black and white. A torrential downpour of sleet belted both boats.

The fight turned to chaos as the pirates fell apart without their strongest man. Arendelle's and the remainder of Weselton's men surged to capture the scrambling rogues and return to shore with all three ships. The captain's struggles weakened. Her vision swum before her eyes as she lost consciousness in the sailor's grip. The stakes of iron and wood were still impaled through her wrist and leg, letting crimson blood bloom into the open air and mix with the clean water, the tears of the sky, to form swirling pools on the deck and in the sea below.

xXx

_Da-badump. Da-badump. Da-badump._

Hooves flew across mossy and grassy ground alike as Anna encouraged her horse through the hunters' trails that wound around the forests way past Arendelle. Late day sunlight dappled the forest floor, adding a magical golden glow to the place. She'd already passed the trolls' valley numerous times, and had waved in greeting to the still and silent place whenever she saw it.

Her horse was definitely starting to tire, even though it had been bred and trained for long-distance travel. She'd been going flat-out all day. It slowed and whinnied, slowing from a gallop to a brisk trot. There was froth at its mouth. It whinnied again, more nervously.

Anna patted the horse's shoulder comfortingly, making soothing noises. What's wrong, she asked?

A distant, low rumble alerted her to the darkened sky in the distance, moving swiftly towards them.

She berated herself for forgetting something as simple as the fact that weather spreads and turned her horse around, a final wave to troll valley witnessed by none but the impassive stones there as she flicked the reins and her horse faithfully galloped back home.

xXx

_Sky Siren_ docked to much fanfare when they revealed _Thunderhead_ and its captain, hands tied behind her back and a hessian bag over her head. People lining the streets, under cover of buildings, cheered, jeered or simply watched in silence by turns as soldiers passed, half-dragging the injured pirate captain along the wet cobblestones. Weselton's ship had gone back empty-handed. No doubt the loss of his men would enrage the Duke, but there was nothing he could do about it. The terms of the wager that he himself wrote were clear.

The slow journey to the dungeons was punctuated by heavy footfalls, slow dragging and breathing. The greatest contributions to the noise were the captain, whose breaths were ragged and tired, and who could focus on nothing more than the slow, irresistible waves of pain and light-headedness she was feeling from blood loss. The sounds of the crowd were little more than a background hum. At least the ship's surgeon had had the grace to remove the bolts and apply crude bandages to allow some mobility.

When they had passed the palace gates and the sounds of the people receded, the captain's headache lessened just a little. It helped. The guards kept up their pace the whole way down. The captain barely felt the irons slapped around her good hand and both ankles, and the small mercy of leaving her injured hand free went unnoticed.

Words were spoken but not heard. Something jangled. A lock clicked. And then there was silence.

xXx

Anna clung to the reins so hard her knuckles turned white. The sleet, battering down onto her and her horse, soaking her clothes and making them cling to her, chilled her to the core. Adrenaline spiked when thunder boomed, urging the galloping horse along the empty streets of Arendelle.

The castle loomed. Guards shouted to one another at her return, opening the gates to allow her through.

When she dismounted with a weary slouch, a stable hand greeted her and took the horse with a soothing sound. Anna was rushed inside to much fuss about the queen "disappearing for half a day and coming back sopping wet, how silly could you be", but she allowed them to fuss and change her into warmer, drier clothes.

"So have they – have they caught the pirate?" Anna asked excitedly, rubbing her arms through a soft, purple winter coat to warm them up. "Or did Weselton get them? Or did they fail? Are they still on the roam? In _this_ weather?"

"They caught the pirate captain, ma'am," the maid Gerda said calmly, with a hint of amusement. "He's in one of the ground-level cells right now. Their ship's in the dock; rumour has it it's got a great bird for a figurehead."

Anna's eyes widened with excitement. This was certainly interesting! "Ooh!" she announced, clapping her hands. "I'm going to go see him! I've always wanted to see a pirate."

Gerda sighed. "Ma'am, he's practically comatose! And he's shackled, anyway." She crossed her arms, looking as much of a ruffled mother bird as Kai had earlier.

Anna giggled at this internal realisation, but quickly put on a pout and crossed her own arms. "I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, especially in front of a _shackled_ prisoner," she replied.

Gerda frowned at her, disgruntled, and finally sighed, giving in. "Alright. As long as nothing happens. They're sending a doctor down to take care of the pirate's wounds soon. The very moment I hear anything's happened to you, I'm swear I'm going to swoop in like the guardian angel I am."

She squawked when Anna threw her arms around her in a strong hug and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you Gerda! I'll only be a moment!" Anna called, sprinting away with a lot of energy for someone who'd been on a horse all day. Gerda rolled her eyes fondly.

xXx

The dungeons were cold.

Anna shivered, drawing her coat closer to herself. The temperature in here was unbelievable, especially for a place at ground level. She chalked it up to the sudden onslaught of cold weather, and thought nothing of it.

Something was clanking softly in the distance.

Walking along the hall, Anna followed the sound. It was gentle, with an irregular rhythm. And then she found the door.

There was no guard, and the doctor had not arrived yet. Looking through the tiny window, there was unmistakably a man inside.

Anna opened the door. It creaked, and swung open smoothly.

The captain stiffened in his place on the floor. The gentle rhythmic tapping of the floor with his manacle stilled.

The silence was absolute.

Anna looked at the captain with fascination. His beautifully tailored sky-blue coat, sewn with pure white thread and embroidered with edelweiss, calla lilies, and ferns, was crumpled from battle and being sat on. His slender leggings, beige, were dotted with blood. His polished black boots with intricate silvery designs were scuffed. His once proud hat served to obscure his face, leaving him bowed, spirit stilled, defeated. The bandages on his left wrist and around his thigh were soaked with blood. Anna recoiled from the sight of the vivid crimson blooms.

"Are you afraid?"

The low voice hung in the air, as fluid as water and as cold as the air surrounding them. Anna stared at the captain, a magnificent bird with its wings clipped, hardly daring to believe that he'd spoken.

"I- Wait, what?" Anna said timidly. Her voice was small, wavering. "Afraid? I'm not- I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of you. Is that what you're asking? I'm not," she stammered.

The captain chuckled lightly, shoulders rising and falling with the sound. He raised his head to look Anna in the eye. His stare was piercing, full of power and silent confidence. Anna froze on the spot, gaze held by his lightning-blue eyes. The hair on his head, palest blonde, was pulled back loosely into a thick braid behind his back. Strands and locks framed his elegant face.

Anna stared.

"You're as timid as a mouse," the captain said wryly. "I'd hardly expected something quite so humble from Her Majesty herself." He tilted his head just slightly in an echo of a bow.

Anna felt her cheeks colour. "How did you know that?" she snapped. His voice was incredibly calming, and the idea of sitting down next to him and tending to his wounds as they talked like they'd known each other their whole lives was surprisingly seductive. She shook her head to get that thought away. He was an _outlaw_, who'd threatened _the_ _entire economy_.

The captain laughed softly again, sitting up straight and proud, even while chained and heavily injured. "Firefly," he said fondly, "the royal insignia is all over your clothes, and you have a silver pendant of the same at your throat." He reached up, fingertips brushing over his neck to signify its location.

The blush rose in Anna's cheeks further at such an obvious fact, and she unconsciously reached up to cover it, mirroring his action. "Well _someone's_ observant," she grumbled.

The captain threw back his head and laughed. The mirthful sound filled the room, echoing off the freezing stone walls and floor. Anna had half a mind to jump in the air and fume at him to be quiet. It was over as suddenly as it started, and he sighed the last of the air out of his lungs, grinning wickedly. "You're adorable," he purred.

"_Excuse_ _me_, sir, I am the _queen_," Anna snarked to hide her frustration at the situation. "I am not _adorable_."

The captain's face darkened for a moment, like a bird flying in front of the sun. Anna didn't notice. "I am the highest power in Arendelle, and you ought to respect me!" she continued.

"You're the highest power in the political sphere of this cove, Firefly. In just the same way, I am the most influential and powerful figure where sky meets sea." The captain paused. "I could kill you in so many ways right where you stand," she added, "and your death would be mourned by the world no more and no less than that of a fish."

Anna recoiled in fear from the captain's gaze, stormy and trained on her face, unwavering. The temperature in the room seemed to drop five degrees. Maybe it was the cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. When she spoke, her voice shook. "Y-You're not threatening me, are you?" she demanded. "If- If you are- I could- I could..." Anna trailed off, terrified by the person in front of her, who'd done nothing more than sit and speak.

The captain smiled, ignoring her, and blinked slowly. "Now, Firefly, I believe we haven't been properly introduced. You, I am familiar with. _Queen Anna_ of Arendelle." The captain inclined their head again. "Forgive me for being unable to bow in my current state. You may call me Captain Ellis of the good ship _Thunderhead_. I trust she is safe?"

Anna stepped back, reaching for the door. "I'm sure it's safe, captain," she said, Ellis's constant wry smile, like he knew something she didn't, making her skin itch. "I'll ensure nothing goes wrong."

Ellis smirked as he settled back into a sitting position, eyes trained on Anna's face. "Thank you, Firefly. I have the _utmost_ faith you'll keep her safe."

Anna backed out of the dungeon away from him and locked the door without another word, shaken.

She blinked the cold out of her eyes.

The gentle clinking of the manacle on the cold stone floor started again, accompanied by a gentle tune.

"_When Biarne, Thorward, Karlsefin, this famous voyage did begin, they stood upon the deck one night, and there beheld a moving sight..._"

**This story is hosted on . I posted the first chapter here for publicity only, which means that everything beyond the first chapter is hosted on ao3. Chapter one is at _ /works/1281859/chapters/2653891_. Enjoy!**


	2. The Doctor

"_It made the very men grow pale..."_

Elsa kept her eyes trained on the door as Anna left. The gentle tune she sang, punctuated by the clinking metal on stone, wound through the air after her, beckoning Anna to return.

"_Their shudder almost rent the sail! For lo! they saw a mighty whale. It drew a shriek from Olaf brave..._" She chuckled to herself with the next intake of breath. "_Then plunged beneath the briny wave, And while the women loudly shouted, Up came its blundering nose and spouted..._"

Elsa paused, laughing quietly again. No woman of her worth would be found screaming on _her_ ship... not from _fear,_ in any case. She continued to sing, as a way to stave off the pain clamouring to get her attention and the black creeping into the edges of her vision, enticing her to succumb to blissful unconsciousness. She could feel her own blood seeping into her left glove, giving the seafoam-teal fabric a colour like waterlogged oak.

"_Then underneath our keel it went, and glared with savage fury pent. Around about the ship it swum, Striking each man and woman dumb_..."

Eventually, the sound of boots stamping on the floor outside filtered into the room. She cut her song short again. Who was it? Who was it this time? _Surely it wasn't the Queen_. Keys clanked in the lock, and everything about her drew to a still once more.

A man's voice coughed loudly, and the door swung open. Her heart sank as she watched from under the brim of her hat, but outwardly she showed nothing. A man had stopped on the threshold, eyes scouring, taking in the form of the captain on the floor. He placed a large white bag at his feet. It bore words, though she could not make them out.

"Well, well, well..." the man said, stretching. "It appears I've been tasked with nursing this _thief_ back to health, like some kind of matron saint." Her heart grew hard at his words. This doctor made her wary.

"Gee, it's pretty chilly in here, isn't it?" he continued, crouching down, opening his bag and rummaging inside. "I mean, it's supposed to be getting warmer, and then suddenly – a cold snap! Isn't that interesting?" he asked warmly, bundling up bandages, scissors, a large needle, thread, and a hip flask into his arms and setting them out on the floor neatly.

Elsa hummed in response, watching his every move with an eagle's eye. She took in every feature of his face: his flaming red hair, tamed and groomed; the pristine white medical coat; the dark birthmark peeping out of his hairline, the spectacles perched on his pockmarked nose and cheekbones. She left nothing to the unknown. "It's just the weather. The sky's mood fluctuates as easily as mine. What's in the flask?"

"Ah! It's aquavit. It's an incredibly lovely brew, uses orange peel and anise." The doctor unscrewed the lid and took a swig, humming in appreciation. "It's so fragrant. Really helps lutefisk swim down, eh?" He winked. "I'm also going to use it as disinfectant on your wounds." The doctor placed the flask aside and reached for the captain's free hand. "Now, I hope you don't mind..."

Elsa froze as the doctor unwrapped the bandage around her wrist, swiftly and precisely. He chatted as he went. "I guess an introduction's been put off for long enough. My name is Evan. I'm a doctor. I'm currently fixing your hand." Evan grinned at his attempt at humour, watching the captain's iced-over look carefully. "Well... What's your name? It'd be nice to know who I'm working with here."

She felt the glove being eased off her hand.

Evan gasped in pain, jerking his hands away. "_Fuck!_" He swore. "I think there were splinters there! Oh that is nasty," he said, shaking his hands and clenching his fists a few times. "Okay, I'm going to leave the glove on. Just aquavit and fresh bandages for now." He lifted the flask up, preparing to pour it.

"Aren't you a doctor?" Elsa said tersely.

"Hmmn? Oh yes, my young lad... Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name?" Even pulled the flask back slightly.

She nodded warily. "Ellis. Captain Ellis."

Evan nodded sagely, slowly putting the flask away. The captain frowned, and opened her mouth to speak, but Evan cut her off. "Of course I am a doctor. I just decided, I ought to leave you be, as I really can't waste my precious time and aquavit on a _filthy_ pirate such as yourself," he sneered, grabbing both wounds with a grip like iron.

Elsa shrieked, spears of pain lancing through her body, stars exploding behind closed eyes as unconsciousness threatened to overwhelm her.

Evan laughed at his sadistic actions as if they were a clever joke, unwrapping the old bandages and not bothering to wipe the blood away before binding new ones on painfully tight. "There," he spat, "I did my work. All that was asked of me was to _replace the bandages_. Nobody will know the difference, and hopefully you will bleed to death. It would to the world good to have one less thief on the seas," he mused, packing up the bag with swift actions and stopping halfway out the door, "And there's no evidence pointing fingers at me."

Elsa could barely hear the door slam. "Goodbye, Captain Ellis!" Evan taunted, though the words were unheard through the haze of agony descending over her. Her world collapsed into heavy breaths and warm, sticky blood, and then into a single pinprick of light from a lone torch outside the cell, and then she was gone.

Far above Arendelle, deep in the clouds that were letting down so much sleet, the slurry flash-froze into jagged lumps of hail.

xXx

Anna didn't want to go back down to the dungeon.

Captain Ellis's words were weighing heavily on her mind ever since she went in such good cheer to _see a pirate_. She nearly regretted the decision. Nearly. There was something about the captain that picked at her mind, drawing her attention back whenever she felt his presence fading.

Despite the impression that Ellis left on her, he seemed incredibly talkative. If not the most extroverted person, he was at least willing to use his mouth. Talk, and sing _beautifully_.

Anna sighed, shifting her weight against her burly friend's shoulder. The young man moved to accommodate as he continued to narrate his tale.

"... And then I said, Oaken, buddy, what's with all the fish?" he joked. "Do you really need _that_ much fish? Are you trying to start a... a _fishpocalypse_ in that sauna of yours or something? ... Hey, are you even listening to me?" He poked Anna's cheek gently, drawing her out of her stupor.

Anna blinked, looking up. "Oh, I'm- I'm sorry, Kristoff, I got distracted," Anna apologised, burrowing into her friend's side. "I heard... most of it. I just can't stop thinking about that pirate," she grumbled, gesturing animatedly. "He's been on my mind since I went down there! It's _creepy_! But only because he said those... weird, but accurate, but really, really scary things!" She sighed grumpily.

Kristoff raised an eyebrow, a sly grin creeping over his face and crinkling his eyes as he deliberately misinterpreted her words. "What was that about being _unable to stop thinking about_ a pirate?"

Anna blanched in embarrassment at his implications, and punched him in the side. Kristoff doubled over as he roared with laughter between wheezes of pain, clutching his stomach. His weight threatened to tip him off the bench, and Anna noticed, pushing him onto the floor. Upon hearing him yelp loudly and complain about the safety of his nose, Anna burst out laughing herself, falling over and staring sideways at Kristoff's flailing form.

Kristoff finally got up and stretched, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. "Watch yourself, feisty-pants. I won't forget that you did me this injustice," he threatened, waggling a finger at her.

Anna pushed herself up onto one elbow, still shaky from laughter, and stuck out her tongue. "What are you going to do, put ice down my dress?"

"Maybe in future," Kristoff teased. "For now, you get _this!_"

He jabbed her sides and began tickling furiously. Anna shrieked, squirming away from the assault that was Kristoff's fingers, thumping his shoulders and pulling his hat over his face.

"_Excuse me_, this is the _library_!"

A severe, authoritative, Italian-accented voice cut through their fun-and-games immediately. Anna wheezed and rolled off the bench, leaving Kristoff to blush deep red from embarrassment. The librarian, a pretty but intimidating lady, tapped a shoe repeatedly on the floor. She crossed her arms, and glared at the two from behind cat eye spectacles.

"Your majesty, that's hardly respectable conduct," she continued, fiddling with a silver necklace as she spoke. "Even if you two are _friends_ playing _games_, you should keep the volume down due to the unfortunate reality that a library is a place for other people to _research things_ and enjoy _quiet_ times with a good book."

By the time she had finished speaking, Anna had hauled herself to her feet and was standing awkwardly beside Kristoff. The two looked incredibly guilty.

"You two are _guilty_," the librarian pressed, "and if I find you making a racket in here again I'll force you out, royal status or no!"

"Sorry, uh, sorry miss... Viola... Vienna," Anna rambled, putting her hands up in mock surrender and grinning sheepishly as she backed away, "We won't make a racket again. I promise," she added with a half-hearted laugh.

Vienna squinted long and hard at her before switching her gaze to Kristoff. "And what about you, young man?" she jabbed a finger in this chest.

Kristoff flinched away from the stern lady. "I definitely won't be doing that again, no ma'am," he assured her, face coloured with a deep red blush.

Vienna's face brightened immediately. "I'll hold you both to that word. Goodbye!" She chirped. And with that, she shooed them out of the library, causing Anna to nearly trip over her own feet. The large pine doors shut behind them with a gentle rumbling boom.

Anna turned and pouted at the door. "Sheesh," she complained, "She's like a... like a _spider_ or something! Always looking nice, and cheery, and prettied up in that dress, until you do something wrong – and then _wham_! She's all over you!" She kicked the bottom of the door to emphasise her point.

Kristoff fixed up his hat and plopped it on his head. "Ah, she's alright," he reasoned, brushing dust off his vest, "It's her job, and she does it well."

"Well, I know," Anna huffed, "She's gotta keep it nice and- HEY!"

Kristoff had swept her up into the air by the waist. She yelped in delight as he spun her around, and raced after him when he plonked her back on her feet. They chased each other down the hallway in gleeful spirits, laughter echoing off the walls as they went, and finally parted ways, to their respective bed and home, with kisses to both cheeks.

xXx

Elsa drifted in and out of consciousness.

The only sounds she could hear were the heavy rasping breaths forcing their way in and out of her lungs, like the slow lull of waves on the shore. Blood was sticky on her temple from where she'd laid her injured left hand, still bleeding, next to her face. Her tongue felt dry and swollen and her entire body cried out for water. She cried out for the sea, the healing sea. _The sea_.

Something jiggled in the door's lock. It paused, and jiggled again, louder. Then, a click.

The door swung open.

The captain looked up, slowly, painstakingly, to see the young cabin boy in the doorway, lockpick in hand. He looked like an angel.

"O-Olaf?" she breathed, dizzy from relief.

Olaf grinned at her. "Nope!" he declared.

He vanished.

The door was in fact shut.

A shiver passed down her spine, as if cool water was trickling down her back. Suddenly, she felt rain splattering on and around her, and a pounding headache beat its rhythm inside her skull, and the freezing temperatures of the ocean surrounded her, cooling her down.

And then she was burning up, _burning up_ under the pouring rain. The life and the soul of the sea, surrounding her and healing her with its cool and gentle waters, gave way to the rancid breath of the doctor, Evan, cackling in her ear, acidic and corrosive and abrasive, a torture all of its own, drowning her in fragrant aquavit.

She blacked out, and jolted back awake.

She couldn't see and everything was confusing. She was dizzy, dizzy, _dizzy_. The blood crowning her a demon on her place on the dirty floor was vivid gold and deep jade and bright fuchsia and cobalt like the sea and it glared at her, accusing, menacing, _diseased_. All she could feel was spinning and rolling and spiralling and through it all she couldn't tell which way was up and her body did not feel like her own.

A gull's lonely cry was the only sound.

She felt a great heavy pressure on her body, on her wounds, and she could barely groan to relieve the onslaught of pain, like a blade of grass trying to stop a hurricane, against the endless barrage of pins and needles and total loss of sensation. Fishbone ferns unfurled from her wounds and her blood dissolved into sand and invasive roots of searing agony grew from each fern and crept into her body, possessing and consuming her and dirtying and clogging her bloodstream.

It was too much.

She begged for relief.

Through her silent screams and pleas for help, a gentle breath ghosted over her cheek, and the Queen's voice, _Anna's voice_, whispering, comforting, concerned, brushed her ear, and with the heavenly promise of being saved from this living nightmare Elsa gave up, and her entire world collapsed in on itself and then there was blissful, blissful, nothingness.

xXx

Anna still didn't want to go back down to the dungeon.

She tossed and turned in her bed, the insistent _itch_ of needing to go and revisit Captain Ellis the only thing keeping her awake. She hadn't heard a word of whether or not the doctor had visited. Of course he had, she assured herself, there was no way he hadn't. Arendelle was famous for its generosity and kindness, and she'd be damned if there was anyone who would not uphold that standard.

Anna huffed and rolled onto her side.

The sleet had turned to hail at some point during the night, and she could hear it battering on the roof of the castle. It was an angry sound, persuasive like the nagging feeling in her mind. _Go check on Ellis. Go check on him_. She growled irritably and rolled over again.

Why was she so concerned about this man? He was hardly older than her. Maybe two to three years her elder, she guessed, judging by his physique. He was an outlaw, an exile. He'd made his choice to lead a life of pillaging, felony, thievery, raiding, and freedom. He was an exile from the political world.

That thought drew her again to his words. _You may be the highest power here... but you're nothing better than a fish._ Anna sighed, lying on her back and throwing an arm over her forehead.

The sky, awake and furious, battered on the roof.

Anna couldn't stand it anymore.

Throwing the covers off, she pulled a warm, plain brown woollen dress over her night slip and yanked on her boots, sneaking out of her room and through the darkened halls. The journey was uneventful, with the constant, insistent, _urgent_ white noise of the hail in the background of every slow step she took.

Just like last time, the dungeons were bitingly cold. Anna was incredibly thankful she'd put on such a warm garment. It was a fraction too thin, but it was bearable.

The guard on shift outside the rows of cells looked at her in surprise, puffing up his chest. "Queen Anna," he inquired, "What are you doing at such an hour in such a place?"

Anna's breath curled into tiny white wisps of warm air as she spoke. "I'm here to check on the Captain," she assured him. "I couldn't sleep, and wanted to check, you know, like I ought to, being Queen and all, and see if he's okay."

The guard raised an eyebrow at her. "Your majesty, I understand you have the ultimate power over this situation, however if I may warn you about the dangers of being in close proximity to such a dangerous man, and a _pirate captain_ no less—"

Anna growled angrily, stamping her feet for warmth and emphasis. "I have been told this _many_ times! And my answer is the same: _How is a shackled prisoner going to harm me?_" she snapped.

He stared at her for a moment, but sighed in defeat and turned on the spot. Anna bounded after him as he stalked to Ellis's cell, twisted the correct key in the lock, and pushed it open slightly.

"You have a visitor," he joked into the silent room, nodding at Anna and leaving her be.

Anna faltered outside the door, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

What if Ellis _did_ harm her? Surely he wouldn't. Even after he said those... rather disturbing things. Why had he stopped his song, though? What if he'd escaped? What if he – No. He was probably sleeping, like she _should_ be at this time of night. She warded off the disappointment she'd felt at the notion of him being gone. It was an irrational fear.

"Ellis?" she called softly, knocking on the door and swinging it open gently.

Anna couldn't hold back the gasp as her heart leapt into her throat.

Ellis was shivering on the floor of the cell, the cot at the wall untouched. The freezing, freezing floor was black with fresh and frozen blood surrounding his body like a gruesome halo.

Anna rushed to his side immediately, leaving no regard to the blood that would stain her clean sleeping garments.

"No, no, _no_, why are you still hurt, didn't the doctor come yet?" she exclaimed in alarm, leaning over him and brushing her fingers over his clothing as if her simple touch could fix everything and leave him just as snarky and alive as before. Ellis's wings weren't just clipped, they'd been _crippled_ _at the joint_, and Anna was disturbed.

She removed his hat and cradled his head in her hands, breathing close to his face, soft wisps of hair moved by the heat of her hands alone, indicating just how cold he was. "Are you awake?" she breathed urgently.

His eyes were moving rapidly under his fluttering eyelids, and at a deep level it occurred to Anna that his face, this close up, was elegant – refined, beautiful, but relaxed, looking far younger than how he held himself when in full consciousness. The difference was like comparing the force and fickleness of a summer storm to a still pond.

"Captain? Captain Ellis?" Anna pressed, worrying her lip again. "It's alright, I'm going to get you some help, okay?"

She could feel his muscles jump under her touch, and his head try to rise – briefly – But then he dropped heavy and unconscious in her hands, the tiny spark of life fluttering out of reach like an ember into the night sky.

Anna swore loudly.

The guard ran in immediately. His angry words died in his throat when he saw Ellis's injuries. "Oh my god," he croaked. "Hasn't a doctor attended to this?"

"I- I don't know," Anna panicked, running her thumbs over his cheekbones. "He was supposed to fix him up! But I don't know what happened! Did he do it at all? Did it not work? Did Ellis bleed this much _since then?_"

The guard faltered at the mention of a name, of the care Her Majesty, Queen Anna of Arendelle, showed over someone so _petty_, but shook his head to clear that thought from his mind. The injury itself was more pressing. "I'll get medical help. Your majesty, I recommend you stay here with the pirate," he ordered, "but at the first sign of trouble, you run, understand?"

"Yes, okay," Anna keened, hardly hearing him.

The guard waited not another moment and fled for medical assistance.

"You'll be okay, Ellis," Anna reassured, mostly to herself, pulling his head onto her lap. "I got you."

In any other circumstance she'd be surprised at herself, questioning as to why she was this protective over someone like him, who'd blatantly insulted her, who she had no reason whatsoever to care for, but that thought never crossed her mind.

She sat by Ellis's side for what seemed to drag on for hours until the guard returned with a doctor still slightly tired from being roused at such an hour, the two careening down the hall and into the cell. The guard slotted torches into wall brackets for light and heat. Anna jerked her head up to look at the two men.

"What's happened here?" the doctor pressed, concerned.

Anna breathed a sigh of relief. "Doctor Evan," she said fondly, "He's bleeding – I mean doing time in a cell is an acceptable punishment, but he shouldn't be _dying_-"

"Calm down, calm down, your majesty," Evan soothed, betraying not a hint of disgust towards the captain. "I'll fix him up. Here, help me get him onto the cot, it will help."

Anna and the guard scrambled to help lift Ellis onto the thin mattress. Evan immediately got to work, and the hail battered against the window, clamouring to get in. He removed both bandages, on wrist and knee, in fluid movements. He didn't even pause before cleaning out the wounds with his alcohol, mopping up the blood with cloths, and threading a suture needle.

Anna was facing away from the gory scene, swallowing the bile rising in her throat. She didn't want to see the tiny instrument doing _anything_. She thanked Eir that Ellis was too far gone to feel what was happening right now.

Anna began humming loudly as Evan pulled off half of Ellis's glove to expose his wrist, slit the side of his trouser leg to get it out of the way, and began working. She focussed on the battering hail and the sounds of her own music instead of what was occurring behind her turned head.

Just when she thought she couldn't take the tiny gory sounds anymore and her neck was beginning to ache, Evan sighed. "There!" He exclaimed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I think I did well in this half-asleep state. Your Majesty, if you wouldn't mind..."

Anna turned tentatively, breathing heavy, and slowly looked at the doctor's job. She blinked in surprise. There were row upon row of tiny white stitches, staining red with blood, neatly keeping together the wounds Ellis had sustained. She huffed in relief.

"Now," Evan continued, stooping and retrieving bandages and a tiny clear bottle of milky liquid. "I'll apply some poppy for when he wakes up."

Anna watched in fascination as Evan dabbed the anaesthetic onto the wounds and ("for good measure", he said) opened Ellis's mouth and flicked a little in. He wrapped the clean white bandages securely, firmly, around each site. "Thank god they were only flesh wounds," he explained soberly, taking a swig of aquavit and packing everything away neatly, "Or he'd need major surgery."

The guard straightened up and sighed. "At least that's over. Sir," he addressed Evan, "Thank you for your time. Queen Anna, it's best if you go back to your quarters."

Anna paused in the middle of pulling the woollen blanket over Ellis's unconscious form. "Ah, sir, if you wouldn't mind..." she began nervously. "I'd rather stay and ensure that he wakes up alright."

The guard frowned.

"My, my, Queen Anna, what a big heart you have," Evan joked. "Well, now that's done and dusted, I think I'll take my leave. Good night, my lady, sir," he bowed out emotionlessly, shutting the door gently behind him.

"Queen Anna," the guard began. "It's in our best interests to keep you safe. And staying in the same cell as a pirate..."

Anna looked at him pointedly and raised an eyebrow.

The guard stared back. "Not this time, ma'am. You're going to sleep in a warm bed even if I have to carry you there."

Anna turned to face Ellis one last time. She gave him an apologetic look that he could not see, picked up his hat and laid it at his feet, and padded out the door and back to bed. The guard shut and locked the door behind them both with a clanking noise, leaving Ellis alone, with nothing but the hail for company.


	3. The Wounded

There was no sound in the morning. The aggressive, battering hail had died down in the darkest hours of the night, and pale, fragile flakes of snow fell in their wake. Not a breath of air disturbed the pristine blanket of ice. The world was brooding.

Weak sunlight, diffuse in the air, filtered into a cell at ground level, illuminating its dry walls and cool stone floor. Fragments of frost clung to the wooden supporting beams above like the lichens they nestled among, and a dark stain of nearly-dried blood fouled the cobblestones below.

Lying on a cot at the side of the room, covered in a carefully-lain blanket, was the still and silent Elsa, dead to the world. The only sign of life was her deep and relaxed breathing. Her jaw was open slightly. A bird flew past the window, chirping to itself.

Subdued footfalls padded outside the door. Concerned eyes appeared, peeping between the bars. Their owner was, of course, Anna. Her lower lip was pink. Dark circles hung under her eyes. She chewed her lip again as her vision flicked back and forth. She'd not slept much since waking. Even then, it came in fits and starts.

The silence was deafening as she roved her eyes over Elsa's vaguely human-shaped body. The blanket made it difficult to judge anything precisely.

Anna had time to reflect on the events of the past day as she stood looking into the room. It was pretty surreal. With the change of the seasons, weather was expected to fluctuate, but this was mad. She'd need to oversee _another_ meeting later; this time, it was about the season's crops. Someone had passed a message to the court some time during the night, and they were speaking in caution about the effects on seedlings and the year's supply of food in such severe storms. It could wait, though. Like that person should've. (Even though their fear was justified, it irritated her on some vague, unexplainable level.)

And not to mention the conference – or two – about the swathes of pirates they had so recently _acquired_. The mere thought of that ordeal made her shudder in horror. Hour upon hour of _mindless_ discussion.

Anna sighed, watching the little wisps of warm air curl through the cell bars. Being the queen was _exhausting_.

She bit her lip with new vigour and began pacing lightly when her thoughts switched to Ellis. _Let's analyse the situation_.

Point one: Ellis was on the wrong side of the law. A _pirate_. The captain of a ship no less, which meant that he had exceptional fighting ability, or... leadership skills. He'd mentioned something about being _the highest power on the seas_. He had influence. However, she wasn't going to ignore that he was probably bragging.

Point two: He was a charmer. He knew how to win a fight with words alone. He practically _oozed_ smooth confidence and refinement. _For a pirate_, she added hastily. Even his voice was modulated, she was sure. He gave off an aura that... made her want to return. It was like he'd put a tiny barb in her head, a tiny fishhook, and although he wasn't reeling her in, he wasn't letting her swim away. It frustrated her.

Point three: She cared an inordinate amount. Here she was, kept from going just beyond arm's reach by this fishhook, coming back to check on him as soon as she could. _She just cared about people_, she reassured herself. _She wanted to make sure that everyone, no matter who, was okay._That was all. That's why she stayed up, tossing and turning, after the tiny little snicking sounds of kind Doctor Evan drawing the sutures into Ellis's flesh echoed in her ears.

She shuddered. She'd never been fond of medical procedures. That's why she'd pulled Ellis's head into her lap to keep him off the floor and lied to the maid that "woke" her that she'd _caught a bad case of moonsickness early_ in lieu of having to explain the real reason for the bloodstains on her clothes. She still wasn't entirely sure if the maid believed her. The urge to ease the suffering of another came to her like an instinct.

So caught up in her pacing was Anna, she didn't notice when Ellis began to stir.

Elsa had gradually begun to show signs of life. The eyelids fluttering, then the face crinkling slightly; her entire body began to move like a glacier inching its way down a mountain. When the feeling of the rocking sea against _Thunderhead_'s hull did not make itself apparent, she panicked, eyes opening wide and shooting up into a sitting position.

Every detail of her surroundings printed itself into her eyes immediately.

Stone. Cell. _Trapped_. Someone outside. Pain— _There were stitches_.

The cover was thrown off with a manacled hand, _restrained_, grounded to the earth.

_Her leg_. Her pants were ruined. Her leg was exposed to the air, dangerously open, the soft vulnerable flesh of the body, unprotected by even something so simple as a pants leg. Her heart _raced_. How far had they gone – how far had the clothes gone off – had they taken the gloves – had they exposed her body to unfeeling _roving_ hands – _had they revealed_ –

Anna glanced back into the cell and abruptly came to a halt. Ellis was sitting up in bed. Her face broke into a smile. She was so happy that he was awake, after all that trauma of the night. She opened her mouth to speak, but faltered when she really had a good look at him. He was tense. Coiled tight.

This was not the cool and collected pirate captain of yesterday.

Ellis jerked his gaze up to stare at Anna. His eyes were wild with fear, and Anna could _see_ it. The wild and dangerous fear of a cornered animal.

There was a fraction of a moment of absolute silence where all Ellis could hear was a single thump of her own frantic heart.

Anna took a step back. There was no recognition in his eyes.

Only adrenaline.

Only terror.

_Only action_.

Silver flashed through the air.

A line of searing pain etched itself into Anna's cheekbone, just barely below her right eye socket. She shrieked, stumbling backwards.

Ellis scrambled back, falling out of the cot with an animal wail but not hitting the wall, pulling the chains tight. His thigh wound opened a little though the stitches stayed put. Anna backpedalled from the door. Something clinked. She had stepped on a tiny aluminium throwing knife, pulled from Ellis's boot and flicked with deadly precision through the bars of the cell door. The thought barely occurred to her over the fact that Ellis had lashed out at her. _A cornered animal, driven by fear_. She'd provoked him it was her fault that she was pressing herself against the wall opposite the door _he was panting and growling like a beast with its shackles raised_.

Another moment passed. Blood seeped from both their wounds.

A slow, low whine floated out of the cell, and Anna could hear Ellis shift down onto the floor. With a burst of energy fuelled by fear Anna threw herself forwards, stopping to the side of the tiny peephole this time.

She swallowed nothing.

"... El- Ellis?" She squeaked, peering around the corner.

Whatever she'd expected when seeing him in that single moment when she turned her head around the corner, from another knife to the temple or Ellis's face crowding up to her own, it wasn't this.

Ellis was _cowering_.

The confident, snarky Captain Ellis of the good ship _Thunderhead_ was frozen in sheer terror beneath the small window, out of the reach of the morning light. He was completely exposed and _raw_, his fear on show for the entire world to see. His beautiful clothes were dirtied with blood and grime from the cell floor. He was clutching his left wrist, gloved, injured, crippled, like a lifeline. His hair was wild and his braid was fraying. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated and taking in every detail of the world, every detail of Anna's face, calculating her voice, running it and her face past a thousand recognition checks faster than the blink of an eye.

Anna stared.

And then that blink was over. All fear dropped away from his face. His posture became regal and his entire demeanour frosted over once more to cover up the window that had shown the angry, jagged cracks beneath the surface.

Once more, Ellis became the icy pirate captain, eyelids drooping just slightly to help cover his still-dilated pupils.

The energy in the room was palpable. It complimented the deafening silence.

Anna breathed heavily.

Ellis spoke first.

"Are you alright?" he murmured.

Anna gulped. The cold sweat that had distracted her on her last visit made itself apparent again. Her face twitched.

Ellis frowned.

Anna inhaled.

"_What was that for?_" She exclaimed furiously, cheek stinging with every syllable. "What on _earth_ makes you think that you can do that, what makes you think you can – _attack_ me and then sit up like it was _nothing_ and ask me if I'm _alright_?"

Ellis flinched from her words, curling in on himself. "It was a reflex, your majesty. I didn't think about it-"

"Then you should have _thought_ about it!" Anna yelled in exasperation, pitch rising steadily. "I called help for you because you were _dying_! And _what_ do I get in return? You nearly _blind_ me!"

The pirate captain was stock-still. His pulse was racing and he was coiled for fight or flight but his face was as emotionless as the stones.

Another little bird flew past the window, chirruping sweetly.

Anna crashed her fists into the door, making it rattle. Ellis flinched. "You're a coward and a thief!" she shouted, face contorted with rage. "You've done nothing but cause us trouble; you've done nothing but cause me _trouble_ and at the end of this you're going to be lucky if you make it out _ALIVE!_"

Anna's fist collided with the wood again.

Ellis could not move. Sheer terror from the vitriol in Anna's words rooted him to the spot. He couldn't even blink.

Anna shivered. All the fire flickered out of her body.

She hadn't noticed. The temperature was _well_ below zero.

"Did they bring my sword?"

Anna stared into the cell, stared into Ellis's face. He showed no emotion. She was scowling.

"Your _sword_," Anna spat, blinking slowly, breath curling angrily around her face like a dragon's smoke.

Ellis breathed a silent sigh, long and slow.

"There was no sword when you _arrived_," Anna snapped.

A flicker of recognition, of hurt or understanding, passed through Ellis's eyes. "Thank you," he muttered. "Please leave me alone."

Anna glared at him.

Wind whistled ominously around the corners of the castle.

Ellis dropped his gaze into his lap. His right arm shifted as if with great effort.

Gentle clanging punctuated the silence.

"_Now... let the steed... of ocean bound, O'er the North Sea, with dashing sound..._" The tune started slow and tentative, but quickly became fast and melodic. "..._Let nimble bird and screaming gull fly round and round, our net is full._"

The song clashed oddly with the atmosphere.

Anna scowled, and stormed away.

"_Fain would I know if fortune sends a like provision to my friends. Welcome provision, it is, I wot, that the whale drives to our cook's pot._"

The captain didn't need to see to know that Anna had halted and was listening.

"_Our arms and ornaments of gold, to buy us food we gladly sold..."_

She was shaking on the spot.

_"...The arrows of the bow gave we, for the bright arrows of the sea_..." With the herrings caught, the song ended.

Ellis didn't stop. Another song began.

"_In the Lapland tent, good days were spent, under the grey birch-tree; In bed or on bank, we knew no rank, and a merry crew were we_..."

Anna had slid down the stone brick wall, the shallow gash on her face smarting violently. The short Laplander's song curled through the air, Ellis's words caressing her ears with their melody. _Sorry. Sorry. Come back. You're good company._

"_Good ale went round, as we sat on the ground, under the grey birch tree; and up with the smoke, flew laugh and joke, and a merry crew were we..."_

The fishhook was tugging.

A hot, red drop traced a path down Anna's right cheek and splattered on the floor.

She stood and strode away.

"... Goodbye, firefly," Ellis called softly, sensing, rather than hearing, her depart.

Anna didn't look back.

xXx

In a sudden burst of motion, Kristoff plunged a saw through the ice. He was already at work in the highlands where the pools and lakes were still thickly iced over, attacking the ice around him with both saw and pick. A single man alone on the ice would be treacherous if not for his companion Sven, who was detached from his yoke and frolicking around the ice harvester like an overexcitable dog. The sudden onslaught of cold weather kept refreshed and wide open the opportunity to collect and stock ice blocks, and _by Jörð he was going to take advantage of it_.

Kristoff's ice fork stabbed into the ice with a hollow _shunk_, allowing him to lift it out of the water with ease. His instruments lay strewn haphazardly on the ice near him, leaving an obstacle course that Sven jumped through. The hole he'd already managed to create in the ice was easily three metres across. He heaved the cube of ice into his sled, slowly and grudgingly. He picked up the saw again, letting it drag across the ice as he walked. There was a moment of silence as he lifted it high, and with a clank when he dropped it to the ice again, his slow, strong motions lent grating sounds to the empty air. Kristoff's panting work song was muffled by his scarf, and echoed back into his ears with his hot breaths.

"This _icy_ force -"he huffed, "both _foul_ and fair -" great metal tongs jabbed into the thick block, sending tiny cracks through its perfectly clear volume. "has a _frozen heart_ – Oh, come _on_," Kristoff whined, noticing the first imperfection for nine blocks with his hawk-like vision that he'd honed from spending his life in the trade. "I had such a good streak, too."

Sven's ears pricked up. He bounced over to the mourning Kristoff and nudged him in the shoulder, making him step quickly to keep his balance. Sven whinnied supportively.

Kristoff stared at him for a moment. "What is it?" he sighed, pulling his scarf away from his mouth.  
"_It's alright_." Sven nodded in affirmation, tongue lolling out. "_You have a lot of ice already_."

"I know, buddy," Kristoff sighed, scratching behind his ears. Sven leaned into the scratches. "But if I keep all the ice nice and clear, I'll be able to get more for it on the markets."

Sven gave him a pointed look. "_But you can always cut some more_."

Kristoff frowned at the sled. He had a large pile of ice already, easily enough to keep his underground store, a "bloody fucking maze" of mirror-like ice blocks (as another ice harvester so eloquently put it), even higher than it already was. He didn't plan on letting his main source of income dry up over the summer, so to speak. Competing with Arendelle's ice business itself was practically impossible. If only a black ice market existed, he thought with a bemused grin. If only there was a demand for ice in the _winter_.

He'd been filling up that cave with ice for _years_. The irony of intending to liquidate it one day was often enough to send him into fits of laughter.

Sven nudged him again, pointing his nose across the lake.

Kristoff blinked out of his stupor. "Hey, what is it? Ohh. That is beautiful."

From their vantage point on the high lake, with little foliage on the far side, they could see down, down into the distant valleys. What sparse sunlight there was sparkled on the fjords' rippling surface. Bright white snow, peppered with little dark fir and pine trees, lent the land a textureless look under the shaded sky. The sky itself was still pale yellow at the horizon from the dawn, and its gradient cycled through white and light blue, but it was swallowed up by the thick canopy of clouds that had formed to cover most of the sky in a patchwork quilt overnight. Kristoff sighed happily.

Sven, in the meanwhile, nudged the tools with his nose. The fork went sliding into the icy water, and he squealed and jumped back in surprise. Kristoff turned around and immediately grunted in frustration.

"_Sven!_" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "Now I'm going to have to buy a new ice fork! Oh man, metal costs _so much_," he moaned, muffling his stream of complaints with his hands. "I'll probably have to go around killing rats again." He thought back to the damp, musty cellars beneath the earth, the cold and the sickly stench of rotting onions, and the smell of the decaying dirt. The rats, he swore, were evil. They stank and were infested with fleas. And then he'd had to carry the things out of there, necks freshly snapped, and burn them. "That was _horrifying_," he shuddered.

Sven hung his head in shame and groaned sadly.

Kristoff tutted and wrapped his hands around Sven's neck, shaking him in a friendly manner. "Hey, it doesn't really matter. Tools are replaceable, and I can use the tongs instead. What if _I'd_ gone under?"  
Sven balked. He barked angrily and headbutted Kristoff, making him double over in pain, the second time since the previous day. "Alright- alright," Kristoff wheezed. "I'm sorry, buddy, just- _ow_- let's go, let's go home. I _do_ have plenty of ice."

Sven wagged his tail and positively bounded back to the scattered tools, picking them up in his mouth and all but throwing them into the sled, one by one. Kristoff chuckled at his companion's enthusiasm, gathering all that needed to be gathered and packing up the whole ensemble into one neat package on his sled. Strapping Sven to the yoke was easy despite outward appearances of the buzzing-with-energy reindeer – getting the sled back up the bank was the hard part. Rising well before the crack of dawn had its benefits. They had time to deposit this harvest in the cave, and be back hopefully before or by the time Anna (Her Majesty the Queen, he added with an eyeroll) had been fed, watered and dressed for the day.

Not a few minutes later, with struggling and heaving, they got the sled up the bank. Kristoff jumped aboard the stacks of ice with a tired grunt. "Come on, Sven! _Yah!_" he encouraged, flicking the reins.  
Sven hopped and broke into a gallop, jolting the sled and its contents. They slid smoothly onto the path back into the pine forest, and they were off.

xXx

Deep in a crowded dungeon, a little sigh and the clacking of a telescope broke the quiet. The cabin boy, Olaf, absentmindedly turned and flipped his tool in the air, catching it with ease. Surrounded by members of the crew, he looked tiny. The other men, some not much older than him, burly and lean alike, were sitting and lying everywhere – on the ground, in the corners, in each other's laps. It was a mess. They took up six cells in all, the crew. Olaf had counted the men and done the math as they went by.

"I wonder how the captain's doing," he muttered glumly. "Surely she's managed to escape by now."

"Ach, you fuckin' toddler. How about you put yourself to good use and use your fuckin' _lockpickin'_ talents and get _us_ out?" a particularly foul-mouthed Scotsman snapped, coughing over his last word. He slumped against the wall, mindlessly picking at an angry scab on his shin. "The captain, bless her soul, ain't goin' to need savin'. She's the eye of the storm. All the shit that happens, she's the _conductor_. There ain't a drop of rain that falls that ain't done at the raise of her shiny fuckin' sword."

A bleary-eyed rigging boy punched the Scotsman in the arm. "Watch your fucking language!" he proclaimed, the hypocrisy of his statement completely lost on him. "Carrot-nose is still a minor."

"Yeah," someone shouted from the cell across the hall. "A minor drinking addict!"

Raucous laughter broke out in both cells. Olaf's face twisted, and in any other scenario he'd go and give that man a damn good talking to. As it was, he could merely fume in silence as most of the men near him laughed at him.

"What's the matter, sticklimbs?" the same man teased. "Are you sad, because your _mama_ isn't coming to save you? Isn't _darling_ _Elsa_ gonna come and tell us to lay off, this time? Or ask us to lay her, maybe? That frigid bitch could use a little _heat_ meltin' her from the inside out."

Olaf leapt to his feet with fire in his eyes. "Don't you dare speak that way about the captain!" he shouted.

"Yeah, Trent, shut the fuck up!" someone else in the other cell said, hitting the crass man. Trent swore loudly. "We aren't even s'pposed to _know_ she's a lady! She's damn tight about keeping that secret of hers safe, fuck knows why. And you _know_ how many ways she could make you disappear. You've _seen_ the blizzards," he added in an undertone.

A shiver passed over everyone within earshot.

Olaf sighed his anger out, sitting down and slumping against the wall. He stuffed his telescope into his inside vest pocket. "They took my lockpick," he grumbled. "_They_ stole it, so now _I_ can't do any stealing. And I _also_ can't sneak out." He sighed wistfully. "If only I were in the sun, with the breeze on my face..."

"Aye, romantic lad," the Scotsman began, grinning cheekily. "D'you think you could use your pointy fuckin' nose instead?"

"Maybe his dick's small enough to fit in the lock!" Trent yelled.

The same man from before punched Trent in the sternum, winding him. "_SHUT_ _UP_, TRENT!" he roared.

Olaf just grumbled about the crew under his breath, ignoring their insults. He switched his thoughts to other things. Ah, yes. He was thankful that nobody had needed to use the chamberpots yet. Some of these men had miasma in their gut, he swore. Miasma and skunk's spray.

Olaf had been stupid enough to try and stab the guard leading him with his sharp little lockpick, and as a result had been frisked. They'd let him keep his telescope simply because it was a _useless, blurry piece of junk_. Olaf could see out of it quite fine. He didn't understand what their problem was.

The loss of his lockpick weighed heavy on his heart. He'd slipped it from the pocket of Elsa herself after she'd stolen him, freezing and grinning and _alive_ in the pounding rain she'd summoned, from Weselton's ranks. She had allowed it to remain in his possession after she found it, with a bunch of fresh baby carrots and a handful of semiprecious stones, in his nimble hands four days later. She hadn't even noticed her tool was gone, and she was impressed. She did, however, retrieve the jewels.

Currently, most of the crew had slept through the racket, but those who were awake had drifted back into occupying themselves with songs, idle chatter or even, with one sailor, counting the hairs on his neighbour's back. (It was positively a forest.) Olaf didn't think that talking to the brutish men was strictly necessary, and was more than content to keep his internal monologues internal.

It was no secret that captain "Ellis" had taken a liking to him. She'd drawn him close to her side, dubbed him the cabin boy, and that had been that. Olaf had immediately gotten to work as one of the busiest, most energetic, and affable souls on the ship. Getting over his initial fear of the rogues had taken a while. Though most were friendly and treated him kindly, a handful had gone out of their way to _break the runt_, sending him verbal and even physical abuse behind her back.

When Elsa had found out, all hell had broken loose. She threw someone overboard, and froze the middle finger off an archer. She'd shouted at the men until her voice went hoarse that _they were to respect each other or there would be hell to pay._ And hell to pay there was when sleet followed the ship for a solid week.

The pirates' hounding of Olaf had died down considerably after that, for which he was eternally grateful. It was all words now. Words, he could brush off.

He didn't look up as the guards stalked past, peering into each cell and glaring at those who were talking. _Elsa can handle herself_, he thought. _We need to handle ourselves for a little while_.


	4. The Routine

Anna stormed out of the cell hall and past the guard who, still apparently on his shift, was fast asleep in his chair. She stood in front of him with a deep scowl etched into her face, hands on hips and feet apart. It was understandable that he was asleep now considering the hours he'd had to stay up, but for gods' sake it was a _night shift_ anyway, surely he wasn't used to them?

"Hey." She prodded his shoulder. "Wake up."

After a moment's awkward snoring and snorting he sat bolt upright in his chair. "Whhhat did I- Your majesty!" he started, jumping up to attention. "I apologise for falling asleep on the job," he said stately. "If you would be so kind as to – _what happened to you_?" he pressed immediately, frowning at her face.

Anna reached up and touched her cheek just near the cut, from which sprung a single streak of blood trailing down her face like an ungodly tear.

"I tripped," she lied.

xXx

Elsa stared wistfully at the door, boring a hole into the wood with her mind. She dutifully kept her frost out of her gaze, lest the ice on the door rouse more suspicion than she'd already made.

She hadn't meant to strike Anna. It had been, as she had stated, a reflex, and one that she'd honed from years living in and travelling dangerous places. The speed of the strike, like the sting from a scorpion that abided in the hot desert sands of Agrabah or a wolf spider from Corona's forests, was a crippling move. Cut an eye, or a tendon, or any soft place, and the assailer would be stunted. Perhaps even permanently.

Elsa had barely managed to register the queen in her sights before she reacted. A grateful sigh passed her lips. She didn't know what she would do if she'd aimed just a centimetre higher.

Her knee throbbed painfully. Her mouth and throat were still parched. With slow movements, Elsa lifted her right palm to her mouth and created a little plate of ice to melt into water. The cold liquid was blissful. Just swallowing the ice was useless, however, as it would not melt in the stomach, and doing so had cost many of her men their lives via dehydration. Not even her own body would digest ice. It just dissipated. Furthermore, her mouth needed it. Not her gut.

Elsa didn't let her pained knee go unattended to. She froze the stitching and the skin around it into a discreet panel of unmelting ice. It helped. A lot. Worrying about her blood wasn't a problem. Her blood would not freeze, though it would scab. She always supposed it was one of those rare perks of being imbued with the sky and the cold.

And her wrist, too. She froze the inside of the glove with a layer of the same ice. Her wounds weren't hurting as much as they ought to, she thought. Either she'd been out for hours or even days to allow her body to heal, or someone had used some poppy-seed anaesthetic.

Someone, she hoped, who was not _Doctor Evan_. Her eyes narrowed. That man had made a _very_ powerful enemy for himself. He couldn't remove her gloves, she wouldn't let him get that far; it would be exposing her greatest secret. It wasn't a splinter that had pricked him, oh no. It was a tiny needle of ice, thin enough to stab into his finger and melt without leaving a trace. Sometimes the simplest defences worked the best.

_Look at you,_ the deepest shadows of her mind taunted_. Using your tainted blood to_help_yourself. You weak, pitiful girl. Can't you survive or die like any_normal, _sane_ person_?_

Elsa's anger crumbled instantly under the sharp, critical tongue of her own self-doubt.

_Nobody ought to have survived that. The shock alone might have killed them. Did sweet old Gunther manage to find you and play doctor? Or was it an imperial medic who removed those barbs? Surely that's the reason why you're all alone in irons, with a sadist out to make your life hell. Arendelle found you first. And then they found your_curse_trying to protect you, surely, and they're going to torture you later, and burn you at the stake._

Her face twitched and she took a deep breath. This kind of thinking was not going to help anything. Think of something else.

Anna had tried to help her.

The Queen herself had lowered herself to assist a monster.

The sunny angel of summer's grace had stooped so low as to cradle the barbed skeleton of winter's wrath in her arms and call to her world and sky for help.

It was laughable. Elsa laughed darkly. And sighed.

That little firefly sure had a spark of trust in her, alright. And what had Elsa done? Attempted to seduce her, and then nearly maimed her. What an excellent first impression. If that spark of trust was still there it was only by a miracle, she thought bitterly.

"Hello, prisoner," the guard from the night before said through the cell door.

Elsa jumped, startled. She clasped her left hand in her right. She would _not_ strike anyone else.

The guard looked her over. "I'm... relieved you woke up alright," he said awkwardly. "I brought you your breakfast ration."

Elsa visibly relaxed. "I'm not that hungry," she dismissed. Her stomach, with perfect timing, growled angrily and _very_ audibly.

The guard chuckled at her defiance. "Well, here it is anyway," he said, sliding a small wooden tray through a slot near the floor. "Breakfast."

Elsa eyed the food. There was a basic platter of lefse and lutefisk, and a wooden cup of water. She held back. She didn't want to give the guard the satisfaction of seeing her eat.

Her stomach growled again, painfully. Oh, who was she kidding. She crawled to the tray, avoiding the blood on the floor, downed the water in one go, and ravenously attacked the plain bread and briny fish. She regretted drinking all the water at once, as her mouth was quickly going dry.

The guard watched her moving back with amusement. "Was the Queen here a few minutes ago?" he probed.

Elsa stopped mid-swallow and turned to face him. "No," she lied, letting the next salty mouthful sit on her tongue.

"Well, she had a great gash on her cheek, and I suspect you."

Elsa nearly choked but she showed nothing and resolutely kept eating. "I would never hurt her."

The guard looked skeptical. "Well forgive me for being suspicious," he said dryly. "She claimed she'd tripped – frankly I wouldn't put it past her – but I... was asleep on duty when she found me, so I have no idea if she'd snuck past."

"Hmmn," Elsa hummed, delicately licking the crumbs off the tray and wiping her gloved fingertips on the good hem of her pants. "So you admit lax behaviour? You could be demoted for that, you know," she jibed, swiping her tongue across her salty lips and hoping desperately that he would leave so that she could make another ice plate, and repair her pants. Having a pants leg flapping open was thoroughly uncomfortable.

"Wh- Oh, you're sharp, aren't you?" the guard muttered, annoyed.

She expanded the point with a sweet smile. "I have a tongue of shining silver and I whet it razor-sharp."

"I can tell," the guard grunted. "Return the mug and platter immediately, I'm not going to let you whittle a lockpick using your teeth."

Elsa laughed sourly and begrudgingly slid them back under the door. The guard picked them up without fuss.

"So why _were_ you asleep on the job?" Elsa probed, slinking back to the cot.

The guard sighed, frustrated at her persistence. "I was helping to pin you down during the procedure lest you thrash and injure us as the medic attended to your gaping wounds in the dead of night." He tucked the tray under his arm.

Elsa blinked her tension away. Anna herself had said that she was there. Or at least implied it. Her mouth was once again parched by this point, and she desperately needed reprieve.

"So," she began dryly, hoisting herself onto the cot using an arm, a leg, and her core muscles. "Are you the only one fit enough to keep me under lock and key? Or are there other royal henchmen that will show themselves later?"

"As a matter of fact we leave rations when our shift changes. There's someone coming soon, I'll leave a word with him."

Elsa nodded emotionlessly. "Alright," she resigned. "But first. What's your name?"

"... Halvard." The guard scratched his chin.

Elsa nodded again. "It was a _pleasure_ meeting you, Halvard," she said sincerely.

Halvard nodded gruffly and walked away.

Elsa filled her mouth with ice as she lay down.

xXx

Anna was halfway back to her room before she was assaulted by Gerda's fussing and fretting over her face, chiding messages about being up so early for her usual regime and then missing breakfast and coming back from the ether with yet another injury. Anna sighed, weaving an acceptable excuse of having gone for a walk and tripping over a rock. Gerda huffed indignantly, but let her story lie, all but bundling her into the bathroom where a change of clothes and a slightly-cooled tub of water were waiting. Anna had, upon being announced queen regent, insisted that she didn't need help with the more minor daily tasks such as washing and dressing. Not that she was inclined to stand and be dressed anyway; she always dressed like a hurricane and bowled out of her room with great enthusiasm. The nurses had respectfully let her be, for which she was grateful.

Anna gave Gerda a little wave and locked the door behind her. She pulled her night clothes off without fuss, and dipped her hand into the water. It was warmer than she expected. She stepped in nimbly and sunk beneath the surface, pinching her nose and holding her breath.

The warmth was lovely, and did wonders for soothing the tension out of her body. If only it did the same for her face, which was smarting again. Anna ignored it. She surfaced with a happy sigh and undid her simple braids, letting her hair float in the water like drifting seaweed, humming a sweet tune absentmindedly.

The soap sat at the other end of the bath accusingly, almost pointing at the yellow-red water near where her face was.

Anna glared at it.

"I am _not_ putting you _anywhere_ near my face," she said to the fatty bar.

Oh but it was _bath time_. Bath time was for soap and cleaning and being fresh.

Anna groaned. She sat up and reached for the soap, water cascading out of her hair. If it was possible for an inanimate object to look smug, the soap had perfected it.

She rather aggressively scrubbed herself down, and ran the bar through her hair a few times, scrubbing the long strands until they squeaked. She shook her head a few times underwater and ran her fingers through it again to rinse the soap out, and then washed the soap off her body again. The water had the strangest, slightest colour by this point, the barest orange-yellow tint from the bit of blood. She frowned sadly, draining the tub and watching the water swirl down the drain. A thin, diluted drop of blood fell off her face, prompting her to clamber out into the freezing air and dry herself off.

Looking into the mirror gave Anna a surprise. Her cut wasn't as open as she'd previously thought. Even now, it had partially healed, and though blood had and was welling up, it didn't threaten to spill. She put the thought away and hummed again as she dressed, furiously towel-dried her hair, brushed it, and smoothed it into her two signature braids.

Both Kai and Gerda were waiting for her when she skipped out into the hall. "I'm so glad you're ready for the day, ma'am," Gerda said daintily. Anna curtsied lightly, smiling.

"My lady, I've brought you a schedule for the day," Kai explained as he handed her a sheet of parchment with a neat table drawn on it. Anna scanned over it, dismayed. "There's one meeting in an hour and a half about the crop fears and the work force during the coming months, one about the fate of these _storm pirates_, one about their captain, another regarding their ship and its contents, a much longer one shedding light upon our agreement with Agrabah and our other trade partners..."

"Can't we condense all those meetings about these pirates into one large one? And why do I have to go to all of these, why can't the under... _underlings_ deal with them?" Anna exclaimed, waving the timetable around.

"Because they've been discussed by the _underlings_ and now they need your approval to pass, or be reconsidered," Kai explained gently. "Of course, you might work better on a full stomach?"

Anna remembered that she hadn't had breakfast yet, and her stomach grumbled. _Feed me, Anna!_

"Oh, yes please!" she smiled.

xXx

Anna nearly regretted eating three krumkakes immediately after that delicious, melty salmon. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat in the conference as three men droned on, basically talking over one another. She was sure she was going to get a horrible stomach-ache sooner if not later. Maybe a headache too.

So much had changed in the last 24 hours. She was in the same place as last time, with the same chance of drifting off into a daydream, but there was now a crew of pirates in the dungeons and a cut on her face that a nurse had dressed immediately after breakfast which, in actuality, was probably better called lunch.

"... The rye and barley exports to Corona are severely delayed. Thus, we organised a compromise: They give us lenience upon our end of the bargain, and we give them double next year."

She chided herself as she realised she'd done exactly what she was trying not to do. Now would be a good time to pay attention. A repeat of yesterday wasn't... wise.

"So," she bluffed having heard, "You only need to have my approval to go through with this compromise?"

The man nodded. "That's what I said, your majesty."

"So then... why haven't you been sending in paperwork to me?" Anna realised slowly. "If you send me the paperwork, I could do away with it with a simple sign."

Kai cleared his throat and leant to her ear. "Your majesty," he muttered, "There's a pile of paperwork sitting under a pot plant in the study, and half a ream of the same are ashes in the fireplace grate."

Anna blanched and went as red as a beet in a matter of seconds. _Oh gods._

"We explain the issue at each conference for your benefit, receive a preliminary verdict from you, and file you the papers which you then reread and either approve or deny," another man explained gently. "I thought you knew?"

Anna trembled for a moment, and buried her face in her hands in an incredibly un-queenly manner. "I can't deal with this," she mumbled, though the words were thankfully unintelligible. "There's so many _words_."

"Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen," Kai said, allaying their fears. He muttered something to Anna and rose with her, leading her out of the room. The ten or so men at the conference sighed, some more annoyed than others.

"She's a child!" someone snapped. "How would she know how to run a kingdom?!"

The gentler man from before spoke up. "She tries her hardest, I'm sure. She has the royal advisors to help her. And with the loss of Akdar and Idunn..."

There was a moment of silence for the fallen monarchs. Not that the burdens both emotional and political that had fallen to Anna because of it needed to be voiced.

"That is still... little excuse! It's been nearly a year! Why hasn't she adjusted to the work?" someone hissed utterly unempathetically.

Anna heard most of the ongoing exchange as she left, and now she was practically in tears in Kai's arms, even as the men seated around the conference table reopened emotional scars that would never heal. He patted her back soothingly as she trembled.

"Your majesty..." Kai muttered. "_Anna_. Are you going to be alright?"

"I don't- I don't know," she warbled. "There's so much – I can't do this – _Papa_ could do it!" She broke off with a sob, tears pricking her eyes and threatening to spill over.

Kai sighed gently. It was nearly physically painful, seeing this strong young girl so broken down, with so much weight on her shoulders even as most of the court held it off for her. A simple yes or no on her part – a simple flourish of a quill, or lack thereof – could destroy half of Arendelle's livelihood. She was only _eighteen_, heaven preserve her.

"Anna..." he said, trying to get her attention. "Look at me. Come on, look at me," he joked, shaking her shoulders gently. She slowly raised her head, teary-eyed, and his heart nearly broke.

"Now, I've got a trick that might help," he smiled. "Do you remember those colourful festival masks that Akdar bought you as a present, all the way from Notre Dame?"

Anna blinked and nodded slowly, wiping the tears away from her eyes with the palms of her hands. She remembered being an excited seven-year old, and handed three masks. They were beautiful, gaudy, and intricate, even if they were monsters and beasts as easily as they were majestic birds and creatures. Unfortunately, under her use, they'd broken fairly quickly. She didn't mind one bit, and had run around for weeks with these broken-feathered plaster facades stuck to her face.

Of course, one had gone to her often-visiting friend Kristoff, and the other had been shoved into Sven's face. He had barked in discomfort and shied away from the thing, and attempting to follow him and force it onto his face had ended with a lot of slobber and scratches. They lashed it to his horns instead, and it was hilarious seeing him try to shake it off. They were in hysterics at the end of the day, and Sven was utterly suspicious of anything colourful for _months_ after that incident. Anna chuckled at the memory.

"Well," Kai said thoughtfully, "I'd like you to imagine that you're wearing one of those lovely masks. But instead of a hideous monster or a bird, I need you to pretend that _you_ are the mask."

Anna frowned. "That doesn't make sense."

Kai chuckled. "You need to put on a mask of confidence, dear, when you're in an official setting. You need to pretend that you know what you're doing, even if you don't. Conceal your emotions, if you will."

Anna frowned, reminded of Ellis. It made a lot of sense, but concealing her emotions _certainly_ wasn't her strong suit. "I don't know. I mean, I can try, of _course_ I can try, but I'm not sure if I can actually pull this off because, you know me..."

Kai raised an eyebrow. "Come on. You can do it. I _know_ you can," he reassured her. "When were you ever one to give up?"

Anna blushed at the compliment and chuckled. "Thank you, Kai," she said shyly, standing up with exaggerated posture despite her red eyes and nose and putting on a determined expression.

Kai smiled fondly at her. "That's my girl. Come on! You can show them. Show them that you are as strong as you know you are. Now I'll organise a re-submission of the papers later, and you'll need to go over them and sign them, but for now you need to pay as much attention as you can and remember as much as possible."

Anna breathed in deeply and sighed out most of the tension in her body, feeling it replaced with butterflies and static. She blinked a few times and straightened her face. Kai smiled again. Anna broke the mask and giggled.

"Come on, come on," Kai said, "You need to go back in."

Anna nodded, squared her shoulders, and calmed her face as she sighed for a second time.

_Pretend you're Ellis_, she thought with a tinge of bitterness.

The court's heated debate went abruptly silent as she re-entered, stunned by the aura surrounding her.

Anna's heart was hammering in her chest and she resisted the trembling in her fingers. "I am ready to continue this conference," she said slowly, "Unless you plan to – _fight_ for the rest of the time you're here?"

"I told you she wasn't weak," someone muttered under their breath. Unfortunately for him, the silence provided the perfect medium to carry the praise. Anna's heart lifted a little in joy.

She sat at the table with no more grace than usual, but her mask of confidence was working spectacularly on the men. They eyed her with a little more respect than before. Respect that she deserved, she thought with a grin that she quickly stifled. Well – she didn't really deserve it, not in her opinion, but as a queen regent it was warranted by law.

"Now," she said clearly, "where were we?"

xXx

A fire crackled in the hearth of Evan's office. He was comfortably warm as he sat back in his chair, pipe in hand and looking at, but not reading, a medical report. It was Ellis's. One was necessary for each patient he had to treat.

That wretched thief was lucky she'd survived bleeding to death. He must have tied the bandages back on tight enough to cut the blood flow, in his spite. A bad mistake on his part. He'd need to be more careful next time.

And of _course_ he knew "Ellis" was a _woman_. Evan doubted that Ellis was her name, too – it was most likely an alias. He could easily tell; it was because she had both feminine curves defining her leg, cleverly hid by well-fitting masculine clothes, and a distinct lack of _package_ between her thighs. People were so _stupid_ and unobservant. She looked very nearly androgynous in the outfit, he decided. He wasn't going to deny its beautiful tailoring. What were the flowers? It would be fun to read into them – Ah. They were ferns, edelweiss, and... something else. It was a strange flower, like a white trumpet.

He laughed to himself at Ellis's audacity. What was she trying to achieve, broadcasting such a gaudy message to the world? Perhaps she was-

Evan paused.

With unhurried movements he strode to his bookcase and traced his fingers along the lines of books until he found a short leather-bound volume, embossed in silver, of maybe two hundred, three hundred pages in length. He pulled it from the shelf with a light touch, opening it to the contents, and then flipped through it as he walked back to his chair and sat. He flicked through the pages, bookmarking the fern and the edelweiss and – aha – the _arum lily_ with his pinkie and ring fingers as he went, comparing and putting together a message based upon the symbolism of each in the book.

What an interesting combination, he thought. What a _blatant_ message. What was she trying to achieve? Was she indeed the reason behind the sleet and the hail – no. There was no reason to indulge in assumptions based on myth. Those never ended well. You take a seed and grow it, and when you have a full tree you find out you've grown it on the wrong soil this whole time and it dies and falls and rots.

Much better to take a solid foundation. Some survivor had seen a heavy thunderhead far off in the cloudy sky and there was lightning and it rained as these pirates overtook his comrades, Evan thought. And then, he reasoned, they were addled by the sea, and the salt, and had delusions of grandeur, likening _someone_ on the ship to a _witch_.

If Ellis's message was to be brought into the mix, though...

There is a grain of truth in every story. Evan grinned. The female captain of a crew of pirates, a sorceress that used sea storms to aid their plights? That would make a fine story indeed, he thought, biting the end of his pipe. His grin became jagged. The fire spat and popped.

xXx

Anna's conferences went well after that. With the simple mask of confidence she gathered far more reverence from the upperclassmen, but the locals and staff loved her just the same. Playful banter with Kristoff was just as common as it always was. She managed to get a headstart on the paperwork despite her hatred of it, and many a time Kai or Gerda found her slumped over the desk, fast asleep, and simply draped a cloak over her for the night.

Elsa and her crew continued to live their days and nights as well they could in the dungeons, one colder than the others, and for them, everything faded to a dull blur. Elsa became accustomed to lying motionless on the cot, and when her wounds healed she picked out the stitching. Olaf talked with the crew, and thought, and sang, and talked, and wished for summer.

Evan continued to be doctor, though he never visited Elsa again, and pondered upon her occasionally.

Days stretched into weeks. Compromises and trusts were sent out where necessary to all the neighbouring lands when the return of winter did not abate, and they responded with understanding and empathy, if not sympathy. And so was established a routine of timetables and rations concerning the main souls in our tale, though where some of them did not touch, the cogs of time turned nevertheless, simple and the same.

Until Olaf, by a streak of luck, successfully pickpocketed a guard as they walked past and came back with nothing less than his lockpick. It was a Thursday night, and all was still.

But not for long.


	5. The Escape

It was a Thursday night, and all was still.

Snow was settled thickly, undisturbed, covering the landscape. It had built up slowly over everything, making a still, soft blanket that for many children begged to be jumped in. Their parents had bustled them inside hours ago and laid them to bed. Now, Arendelle was silent, save for the royal guard. There was no wind.

Deep in the palace dungeons, Olaf lay awake, propped against the Scotsman. Though they had been friends before, they had grown much closer during their weeks of imprisonment. Even now they talked, with their final sentence hanging over their heads, as men of all ages slept or murmured final words to one another in the dark.

"I'm gonna miss you," Olaf said soberly, dropping his head onto his friend's shoulder instead of the bars next to his face. Elsa was being held in the high-security dungeons, and thus her door was made of thick pine slabs with iron bindings. These cell grates were simpler, barred structures.

"Aye, romantic lad," the brute replied, patting Olaf's knee fondly. "You're a mite energetic, but you're good at heart. You've got a heart of gold, and I'll fuckin' miss you for sure."

"Beathan..." Olaf paused, licked his lips, fiddled with his vest, breathed in shakily and continued. "What do you think death feels like?"

The mighty Scotsman sighed, speaking simply. "There's rope," he said plainly, "and there's bein' unable to breathe... I suppose it's got to be like drownin', in a way. Death itself? Oh, if the dead could speak, surely we'd be enlightened," he mourned.

Olaf trembled. He turned and flung his arms around his dear friend, sobbing quietly. Beathan patted his back soberly.

"Olaf..." he said in a hushed tone, eyes trained outside the cell. "There's a guard coming, t'wards us."

"I don't _care_," Olaf cried.

Beathan paused, looking the guard up and down. "Lad," he said, "Olaf. I think he's the bastard that took Cap'n's lockpick. I can't remember precisely."

"That's impossible," Olaf warbled. "He's patrolling other cells. I've never seen him here before."

Beathan scowled at Olaf's stubbornness, prodding him in the shoulder. "How about you open your beady fuckin' eyes and have a look for yourself?"

Olaf pulled away and pouted at him. The brute just chuckled and gestured. Olaf turned, and gasped.

"That _is_ him!" he hissed after the guard had passed them. "Oh, when I get my hands on him, I'm going to-"

Beathan slapped a hand over Olaf's mouth to shut him up. "Now isn't the time, romantic lad. See if he's got anything on him." He winked. "See if we've got a chance at seein' the sun again yet."

Olaf's eyes widened and he chuckled mischievously. He wiped his face on his sleeve and sidled up to the cell bars, hand at the ready, low.

The guard came into view again. Olaf squinted hard at the seat of the guard's pants. No good trying to get a pocket if he couldn't tell what was a pocket in this light. It was only a moment that he needed to look up at the coat instead, identify a pocket, step silently over a powder monkey and slip his hand through the bars –

The guard whipped around. He blinked at Olaf.

"What are you doing?" the guard snapped, thick moustache bristling in indignation.

Olaf froze, eyes wide and hands against his sides.

"Come on," the guard said a little louder, "Spit it out!"

Other prisoners were beginning to stir at the commotion. "I needed to pee," Olaf stammered.

The guard narrowed his eyes. Olaf slinked back to Beathan's side, and curled up. The guard rolled his eyes and muttered about brats, stalking away.

Beathan nudged Olaf again. _Did you get it?_

Olaf made a shushing motion with his hand. _Wait a minute._

They sat in silence while the crew settled back down and the guard's interest faded away. Agonisingly slow, Olaf revealed the lockpick.

Beathan's eyes lit up brightly and he leant over to mutter into Olaf's ear. "Lad, you're goin' to have to sneak out yerself, aye? You don't want Tavish and Trent and all those other bastards backstabbing you."

Olaf looked grave. He nodded determinedly.

"An' listen," Beathan added, "You find a way out, and then find cap'n, and then come back here. This ain't goin' to be an _organised_ operation if we all stampede." He patted Olaf on the back.

Many of the crew were watching Olaf by this point, tense and waiting. The guard passed by the bars again, and glared at him.

"What are you doing this time?" he snapped, facing him and scowling with a vast sense of superiority to the gangly boy. His moustache bristled, and Olaf wanted to shrink and hide. But he didn't. He put on his best innocent and young face, and a goofy smile.

"Y-Your uniform is great quality," he lied through his large buck teeth. "Where was it tailored?"

The guard was oblivious to the crew members around Olaf's feet beginning to move, with slow, stealthy movements that hid drawing of knives and shifting of poses into ones ready for action. He scowled even deeper, voice rising with every word, slowly rousing each pirate from various states of stasis. "What the _hell_ are you interested in my clothes for, brat? I'd like to know why you're so interested in what I, a high-ranking officer, am wearing, when you were so inane as to injure me! Yes, I remember you," he snapped, pointing harshly at Olaf, and reaching into his coat pocket. "And here I have it, your _sharp_ little – _huh_?"

He did a double take. The lockpick was gone, and his face changed to bewilderment.

"Oh," Olaf said cheerily, holding up his prized possession. "You mean this?"

The guard stalled, shocked. "What – How _– Did you take that from my pocket_–"

Olaf grabbed his slack pointing hand and whipped it forwards. The guard flinched to the side before impact and his temple slammed into the bars, knocking him out cold. As Olaf got around the lock, the scrawnier men pulled the guard along, inch by inch to the side, after he collapsed like a ragdoll. It was easy to drag him along to one of the stronger men and hold up the guard, even through the bars, so he could sharply twist the guard's neck and let him drop to the floor again with death's finality.

By this point every single crew member was awake and craning their necks to see, low mutters passing from man to man. Beathan stood and hit the blade of a hunting knife against the steel bars thrice to catch everyone's attention.

"Now listen up you scrawny lot," he announced, his low, gruff voice carrying to everyone's ears. "There is to be no rush as we all storm through the castle and alert every soul on the coast that we're gettin' away. Wee Olaf's goin' to map a route for us to escape, and he's goin' to find our captain, and when he returns _and only then_ will we exit, cleanly and efficiently, by _Captain Ellis'_ orders, or may _he_ have mercy on your soul. _Am I clear?_" he threatened.

A soft chorus of "crystal" and "like glass" and "yeah sir" called back.

"Yes, balls-for-brains."

"Trent I am _so_ sick of your bullshit now you shut the _fuck_ up before I silence you _permanently_."

"Oh fucking hell Stephan, leave me alone—"

"_Both_ of you _shut up_!" Beathan growled.

Olaf clicked the door open with a happy squeal, and ran along to unlock the other five, quick as a spark of electricity. It was a few tense minutes while he did each one, but when they were done he sighed. "Okay fellas, I'm off, wish me luck!" he whispered. Men hissed encouragement as Olaf ran down the hall and away on his quest.

Beathan eyed the young man near the bars, sitting awfully close to the exit and looking ready to bolt after Olaf. "Oi," Beathan snarled, "I got my eye on you."

The young man in question wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and grinned. "Don't get your chest hair in a knot, I need to pull in dimwit's body. Even I know the importance of a good plan running smooth as oil."

Beathan grunted and gestured with his head, signalling that he may. The young man grinned, and ducked outside to lug the body back in. The body was set down in the middle, stripped of clothes and frisked for valuables – they found coins, ID and a gold ring – and then passed down to the back next to the chamber pot and hidden by the crowding men.

The ID got passed around between cells, and the pirates looked for the closest man to act the part. There were mutters and pondering. Finally, a fifty-something man stepped forwards and changed. He looked the part, albeit with a longer face and thicker eyebrows, and crouched next to Beathan.

"D'you have any particular orders?" he asked.

Beathan scratched his chin. "Look natural, and make sure that nobody sneaks off. Keep an eye out for Olaf or the captain."

The doppelganger nodded and began a faux patrol for cover.

xXx

A few minutes' walk away and one floor up, Olaf snuck through the castle with the express intent of finding Elsa. He gurgled with laughter as he crept around a corner and through the blind spot of a guard, no more noticeable than the shadows he hid in. It was easy, really. Follow the way the guard walked; go up another flight of stairs, down a long hall – Oh. This looked fancy.

Ever so slowly and utterly silently, he opened an unlocked door decorated with the royal insignia and gorgeous little green and pink flowers.

Burrowed into the duvets on the bed was the silent and sleeping form of none other than Anna herself. The duvets rose and fell softly as she breathed.

Olaf, in his mind's eye, ran through the track he took to get here, and thus retreated. This route would certainly be a useful thing to remember. He re-memorised his routes as he ran. It was good to be able to remember things like that.

xXx

The minutes had ticked by agonisingly slowly. Now, the ground-floor dungeons were _right there_, right under his pointy nose. Olaf lay down on the floor and inched his face around the corner. He took in all the detail he needed. Halvard was asleep on his chair again. The door leading into the array of cells was locked. An easy fix. If Olaf had some oil it would be better to silence it, but he didn't and that was only a minor thing anyway, really, he decided.

Olaf rose to his feet without rustling his clothes. Now was the tricky bit. His leather-soled shoes made no noise on the floor – Of course they wouldn't. He had the utmost faith they would be silent. In went the lockpick, a little twisting and a thumping heart later the lock was open without a hitch. He slipped inside. The guard was still asleep.

Numerous cells on either side of the hall greeted him. He peered into each one, silently, and breathed in a silent gasp with joy when he found Elsa in the last cell.

xXx

Something jiggled in the door's lock. It paused, and jiggled again, louder. Then, a click.

The door swung open.

Olaf shut the door behind him, taking in the details of the room. He leapt to Elsa's side with no regard to the cold, shaking her shoulder. "Elsa! Elsa, wake up!" he whispered.

Elsa's eyes opened. She was awakened by the quiet noise, but sleep was still hazy over her like a soft shroud of static.

"O-Olaf?" she breathed incredulously. Relief flooded her, leaving her dizzy. "You're really here? I'm not hallucinating this time, am I?"

Olaf chuckled and he threw his arms around Elsa in a very, very warm hug. "Did you hallucinate? Oh, that must have been _terrible_. But no! I'm here now, and we're going to _escape!_"

Elsa's eyes widened. "Where is everyone?" she growled.

"Oh no no no, don't worry, they're still in their cells. They're waiting for me to return with a way out of here, and then we'll all sneak out," Olaf explained. "Beathan is keeping everyone in line. And oh!" he squeaked, hopping with energy, "While I was looking around, you'll never guess what I found! Or should I say _who_ I found!" He clapped his hands.

"Who did you find, Olaf?" Elsa pressed.

"I found" – he giggled – "_the Queen herself_! Isn't that great? We could whisk her away and then hold her for ransom!" he added almost childishly.

Elsa's heart skipped a beat at the thought, the faintest of smiles tugging at her features. _So he found the little firefly_. "Send a message back to everyone. Tell them to follow you out of the grounds and along the bridge, past the village and _directly onto Thunderhead_. Nobody is to steal _anything_ from the village nor draw _any_ attention; else I'll make sure they never set foot on my ship again."

"I'm sure they understand that already," Olaf grinned. "You take care of yourself."

Elsa nodded. She held up the manacle and shackles. "Olaf, would you be so kind...?"

"Oh! Of course," Olaf said fondly, working the little locks with no difficulty at all. Elsa stood and, for the first time in weeks, stretched her arms to the sky and her toes to the ground, groaning when her vertebrae popped. It felt so _good_ to be free, unrestrained. She could already feel her ice crackling in anticipation, the cold frost spreading from her heart out down to her fingertips and toes and sparking in her eyes with a cobalt glint. She grinned wickedly.

"It's good to be back in action, captain," Olaf said. "Let's go take back _Thunderhead_!"

xXx

They had parted with Olaf giving her instructions to find the Queen, and not a word more than that. Elsa retrieved her throwing knife dotted with Anna's blood, tucking it into a pocket over her heart. If Olaf had been sneaky before, Elsa was a spectre by comparison, ghosting through the shadows without even the barest sound.

It was almost too easy to sneak into Anna's room.

Elsa stepped around the bed slowly, with a predator's grace. Anna was nearly swallowed up by the duvets, just as Olaf had said. A puff of unruly red hair shifting during a dream was the only sign that she was alive. She looked so peaceful, so... _defenceless_.

A lopsided grin graced Elsa's face. She daintily leapt upon Anna's prone form, pinning the duvet around her. Anna mumbled something in her sleep. _I was right_, Elsa thought, _you're still as pretty as I thought you were._ She chuckled. _Especially when you're underneath me._

Anna stirred at the soft sound. She mumbled again, shifting around a little.

Elsa was so, so tempted to wake her up in a way she wouldn't forget. However much Elsa wanted it, though, she wasn't going to deny that it would probably go sour, and leave the young queen with scars that would never heal rather than pleasurable memories. So she kept that thought tucked far, far away for another time, and leant down so her breath ghosted over Anna's ear.

"Good morning, Firefly."

Anna's eyes flew open, and she groggily took in the face looming above her. In an instant she was fully awake. There was no way. There was _no way_ –

"_You_," she breathed, her voice shaky with terror, shock and adrenaline.

Oh well if _that_ wasn't a delicious way of talking, Elsa would throw her hat into the ocean. "Please don't scream, Firefly, it's been awfully difficult to get this far. How have you been?"

Anna's face turned into a scowl. "I've been really busy living my life. You know, after you _attacked_ me, and I left you alone like I _should_ have done in the first place."

Elsa put on an expression of faux hurt. "I did _what_?" she shook her head. "No no no, Firefly, I told you it was an accident." In a flash of movement the same knife that had grazed Anna's cheek a month and a half ago was at her throat, threatening. Anna nearly screamed in terror. "This, on the other hand, is definitely not an accident. _Please_ don't make this difficult."

Anna was terrified. Her pulse was hammering in her throat. All she was wearing was her favourite olive nightgown and underclothes, she could hardly go off traipsing through the open air.

She must have voiced the thought, because Elsa paused. "That won't be a problem, Firefly," she said, leaping up and throwing off the covers.

Anna yelped and scrambled away, shivering in the cold of the room. The fire in her hearth had died out long ago, and now the room was as empty of warmth as the captain in front of her. Elsa stood poised with fresh knives in each hand at the foot of Anna's bed.

"I recommend you retrieve a cloak. We're going outside. And unless you want to see how far you can run before I throw two of these with a _clear_ line of sight, you should do as I say." It pained Elsa to have to be so harsh on such a sweet and naive girl, but that was the way it had to be. Ransom wasn't _pretty_.

Anna's face twisted into something ugly with anger. "You're a monster," she accused, groping behind her for her green riding cloak, hanging on a chair.

Elsa smiled sadly. "Maybe I am," she said softly, freezing over the aluminium knives. They became intensely strong under her frosty touch, though the effect was invisible in the dark. "Put that on. And some boots, too. Then walk ahead of me, and don't make a sound."

Anna, terrified, cornered, and very lost, could do nothing but obey.

xXx

Down in the dungeons, _Thunderhead_'s crew had executed a swift and efficient getaway. Three guards had been dispatched like the one now undergoing rigor mortis in the dungeons, and left in corners or under the snow. A window had been removed, a door left ajar, and a path traipsed over the thinnest snow to _Thunderhead_. They filtered out like ghosts, every single person moving with whatever grace they could muster. Beathan oversaw most of the evacuation, shooing hands and whispered messages passed to the crew as they prepared Thunderhead to leave port. Of course, Elsa herself was of paramount importance; otherwise they would be trapped on the frozen fjord forever.

The captain in question was leading Anna down a secret passage that she so neatly pointed out. It led past the sewers and under the castle gate. The temperatures were bitingly cold. Anna was shivering with her whole body, deep shudders racking her frame despite the riding cloak. It was made worse by the sick smell of sewage, which lingered even when they had passed out into fresh cold air again.

Anna was looking around frantically, and gasped cold air into her lungs when she saw the pirates in the distance. Elsa pressed the point of a knife into her spine just slightly, wordlessly telling her to keep quiet. Anna looked over her shoulder, gut flaring sharply with hatred.

The gentlest breeze blew down from the mountains, carrying with it faint, sweet notes from a lute and a deep singing voice in the night.

"Kristoff," Anna breathed, turned to the sound instantly. Her heart nearly broke when her situation hit her with full force. She was being kidnapped. She was being taken away from everything she had to call home. She hadn't had time to say goodbye to Kristoff, to dear Sven, to sweet Gerda and Kai. Grief and panic, powerful, rising and unstoppable, built in her chest, rearing its crushing head like a terrified stallion.

_This is bad_, Elsa thought tensely, reading Anna's body language. _This is very, very bad_.

Breath built in Anna's chest; she was hyperventilating, and her vision narrowed into a point in the vague direction of the sound. Elsa swore through gritted teeth and bundled Anna along. "Ah..." Anna warbled, panic rising when she was being taken away again, whisked away by the frozen winter wind. Another sweet, faint chord sounded from the lute. She was shaking again, tremors so powerful they were interrupting her walking, she was going to go, she was probably never going to ever, _ever_ see anyone she loved _ever again_-

"_KRISTOFF!_"

Anna's anguished voice tore from her throat, echoing through all of silent, midnight Arendelle. It was a cry of terror and pain, sheer force, a cry of help founded from every fibre of her being. _Help me I need help someone Kristoff help me save me_**_save me_****_SAVE ME_**

"MOVE!" Beathan roared. The entire crew went into a frenzy of action. Elsa bodily picked up Anna and ran with her over her shoulder. Anna pounded at Elsa's back but the movement was useless when she was passed to Beathan, hulking, gentle giant Beathan, and carried onto the ship as easily as a sack of flour. The gangplank was raised without pause and cries rang out as the anchor was raised and a horde of Arendelle soldiers were beaten out of hiding places in the ship and thrown overboard.

Kristoff was already barrelling through Arendelle astride Sven at that very second. The fervent cry for help had left his lute in the straw and he'd immediately jumped onto Sven's back with no regard for his harness. He gripped fistfuls of Sven's wiry fur and clamped his thighs to Sven's sides to keep from falling off as his reindeer galloped through Arendelle's empty streets, his heart pounding to the irregular beat of Sven's footfalls.

Far in the distance he could see movement on one of the smaller ships docked in the harbour, illuminated by the moonlight. "Faster, Sven, faster!" he urged. Sven barked in affirmation, sensing and smelling the fear in Kristoff's voice. His hooves pounded against the stones of the street.

On the ship, Anna was nauseous and probably going to puke. She was on a ship. _Her parents had_died_on a ship_. She was being taken hostage and there was nothing she could do, nothing at all, and she was going to die at sea at the hands of a pirate captain. The last thing Anna saw was the past-full moon before she was bundled below decks and into a cabin where she simply collapsed onto the floor, too anguished for tears.

The royal guard was alerted by that scream too. Elsa watched them scrabble and try to approach the ship from her position near the wheel. It wasn't like they could get her. A smirk crept across her face as she raised her arms and brought them down.

There was a split second of silence. Deep, booming twangs of cracking ice echoed through the surface of the frozen fjord. Ice erupted from the back of _Thunderhead_ and a path cleared in front of it, paving the way clear for the schooner on its path to freedom. Not that there was much short of Elsa herself that could stop the boat, now.

Elsa breathed in. The air in her lungs went to subzero temperatures as she exhaled, power leaping down her arms and sparking through her frosty breath as she waved through the air in fluid movements, directing the power around the ship rather than to push it away.

Deep buffeting winds howled through Arendelle, forcing Kristoff and Sven to veer off course to avoid the tiny flakes of snow now howling through the air and biting at everything it could reach. The wind was keeping him away. He cried out in anger, directing Sven around houses and down to the docks, down, down and out to the open –

Sven was bowled over by a gust of wind from the side. He brayed in horror when Kristoff went tumbling off his back, rolling onto the cobblestones. Kristoff scrambled to his feet but the winds were too strong; he could not stand. The trees were creaking and the wind was whistling around houses.

Kristoff watched in horror through squinted eyes as the boat pulled out from the harbour to the symphony of the cracking ice and whirling snow.

"_Anna!_" he shouted desperately, because he _knew_ she was on that ship, he _knew_, but the wind tore the word from his lips and shredded it to nothing, howling into his mouth and chilling him to the core. Sven brayed in despair.

The ice broke and reformed around _Thunderhead_ as it left dock, and the winds slowly began to abate, no longer needing to cover for the ship.

Kristoff's eyes pricked with tears, and he wrapped his arms around Sven, growling to hide the pain tearing at his heart. The royal guard halted, far away, useless as _Thunderhead_ powered away under supernatural force.

In a cabin under _Thunderhead_'s deck, Anna lay curled on the floor, shuddering from grief and trying so hard, so hard not to cry. It was too much. She was on a _ship_ and they were heading out to the _sea_. This had all began when she'd had the gall to _go see a pirate_. Her once-excited words rang in her ears, and her mind said it was too much. She didn't even get to release a sob before her body shut down, drawing her into the blissful void of sleep's embrace.


	6. The Embrace

Elsa stood on the deck, leaning against the tallest mast. The cold, fresh air was making her heady; it was as potent as fine wine, she thought, inhaling deeply and sighing the dead air of the dungeon out of the musty corners of her lungs. The ice cracked and boomed. Her head spun a little, and she hummed in appreciation of the freshness and the cold. The moonlight cast the landscape into bleached black and white, stark illumination and shadow. Elsa revelled in it.

Elsa watched her crew running around the deck with little interest. They were only preparing themselves and assaulting the food stores in the deepest, hidden parts of the ship. About a quarter of the space below decks had been turned into a series of secret passages, most of which hid food, a smattering of small chests of various currencies, and jewels, semiprecious or no. Funnily enough, Arendelle's soldiers had completely missed the trapdoors to the place hidden under three barrels of sand and a spare sail at the fore of the deck, so everything was intact. They were all useless, Elsa concluded.

Beathan brought her back into the present. "Captain Ellis. They're going to completely demolish the cured hams," he grunted, gesturing to the men doing a passable job of rationing off the meats and even pickles. "Should I supervise?"

Elsa hummed noncommittally. "Just make sure they don't cause a mess. Or fights. Make sure Eziel is in charge of keeping rations stomach-sized like the cook he is. The penalty is one finger or two toes for every permanent injury caused by unruly behaviour."

Beathan nodded. "Understood. Also... what about the young lady?"

Elsa nodded. "Leave her to me," she said. "You're dismissed. And oh, where's Olaf? I need to... thank him."

Beathan chuckled. The sound rumbled deep in his chest. "He's chasing after carrots, he thinks we might have a desiccated handful somewhere. Should I bring him, or should I relay the message?"

The corners of Elsa's lips tugged into a scowl at his teasing. "The latter, please."

"Alright, sir. I'll leave you to _talk_ to the young lady. I left her in the _guest's_ cabin." He raised his eyebrows knowingly and turned around with a swagger.

Elsa scowled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It wasn't like Beathan was hitting home when he mentioned _alone time_. And it wasn't like Anna would reciprocate anything. Not right now. It would be... tedious at best, to win her affections. Painful, most likely. Once again, Elsa lamented the terrible impression she'd left on Anna.

... Oh my god. Beathan said the _guest_ cabin. The _guest_ cabin? As in, did he mean the _guests_, as in _guests_ that you _paid_ for their _time_-

Elsa set off at a brisk walk.

Why had she even put aside a cabin for that use anyway? Oh yes, she thought as she ducked down a few stairs and rounded a hallway, it was so nobody would stuff her valuables down their corsets and run off to the nearest town. She pulled open the door she was looking for.

Oh thank gods it was empty. Beathan must have been messing with her. He was lucky he was on her good side.

Elsa sighed and shook her head at a lacy garment stuffed in the corner, barely visible. Sure, lace was great, and so was silk – she stopped before her mind went wandering in the direction of _sheer_ silk, no no no – but that particular encounter with their owner, was a no. _Huge_ no. Not a lovely memory. That snake could live the rest of her days underwater.

Elsa shut the door.

And, to the other guest room. The one... _safe_ for all guests. She steeled herself, just in case Anna was awake and angry.

The door was unlocked.

Elsa slunk into the room and stared at Anna, out cold on the floor. She sighed gently. Oh, she felt pity for the girl alright. _You need to get into some warm clothes. Maybe I could count the freckles all over your neck and shoulders in the meanwhile._ Pitiful, small girl.

_You're a monster._

Elsa's breath hitched. The echo of Anna's words stung. She curled her gloved hands into shaky fists. She didn't have the time nor peace of mind to deal with this right now. She had a profile to uphold, a crew to keep in line, and this princess to... talk to. Nevertheless, she could feel ice pricking her gloves from the inside.

A gentle snore broke Elsa from her fear. Anna mumbled in her sleep, and once again the pirate captain was overcome with a wave of... emotion. It hurt her heart.

She didn't like pain.

So Elsa scooped her arms underneath Anna. She hoisted her up with a grunt, and dragged her onto the small bed. She laid the thick woollen blanket over Anna, gave her one last glance, and walked out of the door.

Little did she know that Anna had opened her eyes, briefly, to see her leave.

Anna sighed and gave pause to the situation to shut her eyes tightly and pretend she was at home. Why had she woken up early? Better to go back to sleep, she thought.

Then the ship rocked, the faintest smell of perfume, sea salt and something else hit her, and reality came crashing back down. Anna felt sick to her core. Nausea churned in her gut. She scrambled out of bed and barely made it out the door before she vomited. Her chest heaved. Her nose and throat burned. Anna fell to her knees and wept.

She didn't even care, oh no she did not care that she was trembling and crying next to the contents of her stomach. She didn't _not_ care enough to stay still, anyway. She shuffled away a little, still in lament. The minutes ticked by. Anna was, for the second time in her life, truly, truly lost.

Light steps tramped down the stairs to the hold, and stopped. Olaf stared at Anna with a mouthful of dry carrot, looking unabashedly (and innocently) at her dishevelled form, and eyed the vomit. His lips curved down. He swallowed the carrot.

"Hey," he said softly, patting her back. "Are you okay there?"

Anna looked up at him, startled, and cried out in alarm. She scrambled back into the door, slammed her head, and backed into the room on her hands and feet.

Olaf freaked out and followed her in, flailing his arms. "No no no! I'm sorry! Are you okay? Oh my gosh, I didn't mean to scare you!" He crouched on the balls of his feet in front of Anna, who was on the floor, pressing herself into a small dresser, and holding her head. Olaf held up his hands in a calming gesture. "You were crying, so I thought I should help you out a little."

Anna sighed shakily and rubbed the sore spot. "You- I- You startled me, is all," she said, relaxing. "I just – _Kristoff_ –" Anna hid her face in her hands. She could feel the horrible pit of sadness opening up again but she couldn't summon the strength to suppress it. Warm, skinny arms rested on her shoulder blades, and she realised that the boy was hugging her.

By all accounts, she should be terrified. But the comfort was so direly necessary right now. She shuffled closer, leant her head under his chin, and returned the embrace. Olaf gave a sad chuckle and soothingly patted her back.

They stayed like that for minutes. The fjord made the boat rock ever so gently and the hull creak deep down. Deep, acoustic twangs sounded every now and then from the cracking ice. Olaf had half a mind that Elsa was keeping the waters calm.

"Ah..." he said finally. He gently pried her arms off him. "Do you think I should get that mess over there cleaned up? And maybe get you into some warm clothes? You look awfully cold under your cloak there."

Anna looked up at him. She smiled and laughed dryly. "You know I'm scared of all these pirates."

The cabin boy paused, and scratched his chin. "You know," he said knowingly, "I think we're due for some introductions. Hi, my name is Olaf, and I..." He rocked back onto his heels again during his pause. "... am the cabin boy." He opened his arms wide and smiled. "What's your name?"

"I'm... Anna." Her wariness began to fade away.

"Oh, hi Anna! Now excuse me, I need to clean that up." He pointed at the mess past the doorway. "I'll get a nice clean rag too, and I'll get your face lovely and clean again too. Not that you aren't lovely already," he said candidly, pushing on his knees and standing to his feet.

Anna blinked. "Oh no! I'm not that lovely. And wait, I'll clean up, don't worry about it-"

Olaf put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye, completely serious. Anna was shocked to find that he was taller than she was. His hands were very light, too. "Your puke is gross and I'm going to clean it up." He enunciated. "The floorboards will stink otherwise. You stay here," he directed her backwards in the dim light and pushed her gently onto a stool by the foot of the small bed, "And you can chat to me while I do it. I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

Anna found herself smiling. He was so sweet. "Alright, Olaf. I'll stay here."

He grinned back at her and stepped out of the room, leaving the door wide open.

xXx

Olaf was a great partner in conversation, as Anna quickly found out. He had an intense love of the warm summer months, a great longing for breezes and life, and such a light heart she felt her own might float away with him. The conversation took her mind off the rocking of the boat, eventually. It was so persistent and always there, worming its way into her head, reminding her of thoroughly unpleasant things. And frankly, Anna wouldn't be able to go back to sleep if she tried, so staying up to talk would be her best bet. She didn't want to think about how everyone would have reacted by now.

Olaf propped his face in his hands and his elbows on his knees. "So what happened?"

"I ended up with my mouth stuffed full of chocolate, smashed pumpkins everywhere, a screaming child attached to my leg and his mother whacking me with a leafy branch."

"That was your fault!" Olaf laughed.

"No!" Anna cried, waving her hands at him. "It was the dog's fault for chasing the goat into the haybale!"

Olaf snickered and stretched his arms up high. "What about we go and look at the sky?" he asked. "Maybe there's going to be an aurora."

Anna blanched. "Am I going to have to see the crew?"

Olaf paused. "There might be people around, but I doubt there'll _really_ be anyone to bother us."

Anna stared at the floor. "Alright," she said finally.

Walking up the steps was a little more difficult than Anna had expected. The slight movement of the boat undermined her every step in the subtlest attempts to trip her up. She resolutely forged on with her hands against the walls. And when they arrived at the deck—

She gasped in the cold air. Olaf turned and blinked at her, in nothing but a short sleeved shirt, a vest, shorts and soft boots. "Aren't you cold?" she chattered incredulously.

"No," Olaf said nonchalantly. "I'm in the cold all the time. The dungeons weren't much warmer than this, to be honest."

Anna took the time to scan the deck for other men and note their position. "What about all the people down there? Didn't they make it warm?"

Olaf shook his head. "Nope. Hey look! The sky's awake!"

Anna turned her eyes skyward, past the triple masts with their sails unfurled, and _ooh_ed in awe. Vibrant green and purple northern lights hung suspended in the sky like sheets of gossamer. They bathed the deck in colour alongside the moonlight already present. For a moment she forgot that she had been stolen away onto a ship, and that it was very cold out on the deck; Anna just stared, slack-jawed with childish awe, at the colours dancing in the sky, and at the endless, hypnotic, swirling sea of stars above, with their magnetic pull on her heart and soul. She felt like she could fall up into them, fly free and _alive_ with every nerve and synapse, if she wasn't rooted to a moving deck.

But then a cold shiver traced down her spine, and the moment was broken. She curled her forest green riding cloak closer around herself. Olaf eyed her, but other movement caught his attention.

"Ooh! Here's the captain!" He said gleefully.

Anna raised her head.

Her gaze locked with Captain Ellis'.

The captain blinked and smiled slowly. Anna's half-smile dropped away; her lips turned down and she drew her eyebrows together in a scowl.

Olaf looked between the two of them with concern. "... So you _did_ take her out of the room personally," he said thoughtlessly. The fjord cracked and split ahead of the ship; the northern lights slowed. Anna's face flickered, like a candle.

"I see you like the aurora," Ellis stated, rather than asked.

Anna crossed her arms under her cloak. Her shivering seemed to fuel her anger. "What gives you that idea?"

"The beatific smile across your face a moment ago said as much."

Oh, he was observant, Anna thought. It pissed her off. "You're paying an awful lot of attention to me, _sir_," she reprimanded. "Maybe you should pay attention to the _ship_ you're supposed to be the captain of, instead of talking to someone you so rudely stole from her home, her closest friend, and everything she had to love, to just _sell_ back to her kingdom?"

Ellis' face darkened.

The loudest, booming cascade of cracks of all so far sounded in the fjord, the sound shooting down to its deep black watery depths in an acoustic, alien roar. Anna jumped in alarm, and Olaf moved to steady her. Indeed, Ellis' very aura seemed to reflect the sounds of the fjord, becoming so emotionally frozen that Anna wouldn't be surprised if ice started forming in the air, suspended. Her shivering started anew, although it wasn't entirely from the biting cold. The northern lights above changed to vibrant pink-purples and blues.

"If you would be so kind," Ellis said quietly, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak to me like that."

Anna would have been less terrified if he'd yelled. But she did not shrink. She stood, defiant, a fire burning in her stomach. "I'd appreciate it if you turned this boat around and took me _home_."

"I'd appreciate it," Ellis murmured, stepping so close that Olaf had to move out of the way, "if _you_ could appreciate that I'm trying to do right by you while you're in my _custody_." Anna could feel his breath tickling her face now; it was warm and gentle. "_Can_ you appreciate that?"

Anna's eyes flicked back and forth between his icy blue ones, and their intense gaze. Her stomach flopped. She felt she needed to steady herself on something. "Yes," she whispered.

And then Ellis smiled; it was as if the sun was reappearing after an eclipse. His entire face softened.

"Thank you," he said, stepping away smoothly. His eyes were still bright, but by contrast, his face looked... drained. "Thank you, Firefly. Make yourself comfortable in the cabin I assigned to you; we have a long journey ahead of us."

Anna frowned again.

"Ooh, where are we going?" Olaf asked excitedly.

"... Somewhere warm," Ellis said cryptically, roving his eyes over Anna's face once more before turning around and heading for the prow of the ship.

Anna watched him leave with a funny, tense feeling in her stomach.

xXx

They were still in the fjord by the time dawn broke. Anna clung to the back mast as she stared out at the lightening sky. Olaf was high up in his little perch of a crow's nest above, lashed into a crude seat with rope and his own limbs. Anna feared for his safety, despite his assuring her that he spent most of his days up there. It gave him a sense of peace and calm, he said, watching the sky and the sea. Right now, Olaf was recording a few coordinates and lights to bring down to the crew for the day. Anna didn't see that it was necessary because they were in a fjord, but Olaf went up there regardless.

Presently he was carefully unlashing himself and clambering down the rigging. He waved to a rigging boy that he passed. The rigging boy sneered at him, waggled his eyebrows at Anna, and leant back on the mast with his hat over his eyes. Anna was thoroughly miffed. Olaf, however, didn't so much as bat an eyelid, and shimmied down the last ropes, landing at Anna's feet.

"Hey, Anna, the sunrise is great if you can get up there early enough," he explained. "I manage to do it most mornings, but I couldn't see today because of the mountains here. And oh!" He went off on a tangent, "let's go get some breakfast, shall we?"

His grin was too sweet. Anna followed him down into a cramped section of the ship, where many of the crew were already up and moving. Some were eating on the go. There was a line leading into the food stores, and a line leading out. Anna eyed the strips of dried meat with suspicion.

"Aren't there any vegetables?" she asked.

Olaf stared at her, and suddenly avoided looking at her entirely. "Uh, no. No there aren't. How are we supposed to keep them? Vegetables would need to be dried, and kept dry under sea level. So we have plenty of pickles, you can eat some if you want. It's also kind of useless to add water to dried vegetables, because the fresh water is all the good stuff, and we're surrounded by _salt_ water. And you know, fresh water is precious, and we can't create it from _nothing_, so we can't go wasting it, can we?"

Anna glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He sounded incredibly nervous. "Are you alright?"

Olaf spread his hands as if to say _Nothing here!_ and giggled. "Absolutely!" He said, clasping them in front of him.

"Someone's got a girl crush," a pirate said, brushing past them and nudging Olaf in the ribs knowingly. "Get 'em, sticklimbs."

Anna went red to the ears as Olaf told him to _rack right off, that's not true_. He immediately led Anna into the store room ahead of everyone else, despite a few unapproving stares from the crew. He grabbed a loaf of hardtack and some strips of jerky, stuffed them all into the inner pockets of his brown vest and led her out just as quickly as he went in.

Olaf suggested sitting at the prow of the ship, but Anna rejected the idea like lightning. So they sat next to the centre mast together instead.

"You'll be perfectly safe on Thunderhead," Olaf insisted, handing her a palm-sized loaf of hardtack and a strip of dried meat the same size. "Ellis is well-practiced at keeping everybody in line, and if someone so much as touches you, they'll probably get thrown overboard. Oh don't worry about me, I'm a friend to you, and Ellis trusts me."

Anna poked the meat suspiciously. "Okay, I... believe you. But really... You don't... um... _like_ me, do you?"

Olaf blinked at her blankly. "Of course I like you," he said, nibbling at the bread with his side teeth, "you're happy, and kind, and good to talk with. Who _wouldn't_ like you?"

Anna gave him a funny kind of wide-eyed look. Her cheeks and the tips of her ears coloured.

"Oh!" Olaf said, eyes widening. "_Oh_. You mean, in the way Akdar was picking on us for. No, no, don't worry, I don't _like_ you at all; not like _that_, anyway. I'm not really interested in... _getting 'em_, to be honest."

Anna laughed a sigh of relief. "So none of the..."

"Birds and the bees? _Intimate relations_?" Olaf joked. "No, I just don't care for it."

Anna bit into the jerky. It was chewy, a little flaky, and very salty. Nothing like anything she could be having at home. "I've never heard of anyone with that stance before."

Olaf just shrugged, and bit into his strip of meat.

Anna looked at the railing on the deck, not quite brave enough to look over the edge to the fjord yet. "I'm scared of the sea," she said quietly. "I keep thinking that this boat is going to fall apart and we're going to drop into the fjord and..." a lump formed in her throat. "... And drown," she croaked. She cleared her throat.

Olaf gave pause and looked at her sadly. "Would you care to tell me why?"

Anna frowned. "My parents... died at sea."

Olaf's face fell. He didn't even wait. He dropped the food into his lap and pulled Anna into a hug. She returned the embrace, scrunching her eyes shut.

"You're going to be okay, okay?" He said comfortingly. "Nothing's going to happen to you here. I swear it. Cabin boy's honour."

Anna chuckled at the warm feeling of comfort that was spreading out from her heart, and hugged him tighter. "You're so sweet, Olaf."

Olaf hummed happily and smiled.

xXx

After they had eaten their meagre breakfast, Olaf convinced Anna to at least come near the steps leading to the stern. She followed carefully, always holding his reassuring hand, and step by tiny step, she shuffled up onto the back of the ship. When she looked over the edge, she gasped.

Olaf watched her reaction, and then the fjord. The chunks of ice that had split in front of the ship were slowly floating back together at the back; not whole, but enough to make a near-perfect tessellation. "What magic is _this_?" Anna breathed.

"Oh, the ice just floats back together. Maybe it's the spirit of the fjord," he lied. Of course Elsa was making the ice reform; it was floating back into its original position by her command, and slowly sealing itself back together. But he couldn't tell Anna that. Not yet.

"That's crazy," Anna gulped. She watched, mesmerised for a moment. But her fears got the better of her, and she stepped away until she couldn't see over the edge any more. "How long is it until we leave the fjord?"

"Uh, I'm actually not sure. Sometime today, I think. By then hopefully you'll be acquainted with some of the nicer members of the crew. Oh! Let me get Beathan!"

"Beathan?"

"Yeah! He's my closest friend! Stay right here, okay?"

Anna watched him run off with a happy smile. She clung to the thick wooden railing, and roved her eyes over the deck. It was actually... kind of nice. The breeze ruffled her hair, smelling of earth and salt, just a little different to riding her horse. The sky was clear, the fjord-side mountains were vibrant... She cast her gaze along _Thunderhead_.

Ellis was watching her, from the other end of the ship, next to a stack of barrels and a folded-up sail.

There was no mistaking it. He was definitely eyeing her. For what reason, Anna couldn't determine. She narrowed her eyes, and looked away.

What Anna couldn't see, was that Elsa was talking to Olaf.

"She doesn't trust you," Olaf was explaining. "Her parents died at sea."

Elsa sighed sadly. "I can't help that. I'm also sorry for bringing her along, in a way. Do you _know_ why I haven't got any women in my crew, Olaf?" she questioned him suddenly, eyes still trained on Anna.

Olaf was taken aback a little. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "I've definitely pondered it before, but I always thought you had your reasons for... paying women, so I let you be."

Elsa sighed again, and shut her eyes. "I can't let myself fall in love."

"But love is wonderful," Olaf said carefully. "Why wouldn't you want that?"

"Love hurts. And I don't like pain," Elsa murmured, looking down at him. "What I'm scared of is that I'll... fall in love with her. While she's here, on _Thunderhead_."

_And I don't like fear either_, she added to herself. She clenched her fists. The fjord crackled.

Olaf frowned. "Well... you best take care of yourself. I need to find Beathan, I promised Anna I'd introduce her to him."

Elsa nodded, and turned away from the wind. Olaf crept into the hold to begin his search.

Anna watched the sky, and pretended she could see the stars.


	7. The First Week

It was the first day after the pirates' escape.

The royal court of Arendelle was in uproar.

When dawn broke, a maid had gone in with every intention of waking Anna up and had instead backed out of the room, hyperventilated, and gone babbling to the guards.

The entire castle was strip-searched for the missing princess. The infamous storm pirates had been reported escaped in the dead of night, and now everything fell into place – and far from being easier, the whole issue got much, much worse.

It was made absolutely crystal clear that Arendelle's citizens were not to be informed of this disaster. The gates would be shut, the staff still unaware of the issue would be sent on paid leave, and the secret would be kept a secret. By nine am, two thirds of the castle's staff were gone.

Gerda was comforting a sobbing Kristoff. He blamed himself for Anna's loss, even though he could do nothing about it at the time. Sven had _hurt his ankle really bad from the fall_, he explained to Gerda, _so he couldn't chase the ship down_. And even then, the surface of the fjord had erupted with ice spikes. The smell of sorcery was thick in the air. There was no way to follow.

Kristoff felt so useless in that moment.

Doctor Evan had been alerted of some kind of commotion when a guard burst into his office-slash-quarters in the dead of night. He'd given him a questioning; the guard told him nothing. So he decided to take matters into his own hands.

He walked through the castle keeping up an air of concern and briskness. It fooled anyone he passed, anyway: in reality he was perfectly composed. The other guards and the nurses were all too willing to give him the information he wanted, it seemed. Maybe they trusted the head doctor. He didn't know, and he didn't care. The end justified the means, and the end was getting information.

He hadn't trusted Ellis from the start. Who would trust her, anyway?

The guard Halvard and Princess Anna, clearly.

Halvard had been fired, and recommissioned to be a stable hand. The other guards who had been on duty were questioned thoroughly, and warned.

There was someone that Evan needed to see.

"Advisor Kai," he asked meekly, tapping the head Royal Advisor on the shoulder to catch his attention. "You said the pirates escaped?"

Kai jumped on the spot and faced him, thoroughly worried for the young woman he treated like a daughter. "Oh, it's you. Absolutely. This is- This is a _travesty_! I can't believe these criminals escaped from right under our noses, with the young queen-to-be in tow! The public _must not know_!"

Evan stuck his tongue in his cheek, had a moment to think that Kai was a useless old man, and breathed a sigh of air. "If the pirates escaped... Wouldn't their ship be gone?"

Kai's face paled. "Say nothing. Nothing at all."

"Well, won't the public ask questions? _What about the princess?_" Evan asked, perplexed. Was this how they were going to react to the crisis? Shut off all contact with Arendelle proper? He had no qualms with this, but he thought it was stupid all the same.

Kai paused. "If they do, we'll think of something. We'll keep them placated on the issue. Say that... the ship sank, without warning, and that Princess Anna has to undergo training for taking the throne. Keep them silent," he muttered, "As much as I hate to say it. We'll send out scouting teams as soon as we can."

Evan blinked lazily. "That's hardly an effective plan of action."

"It's all we have at the moment," Kai muttered dejectedly. He turned and walked away.

They were all stupid, Evan decided, watching him leave with a bemused expression on his face. If _he_ were in charge, nothing would go wrong, and every plan would be perfect. But of course that would never happen: he was but the doctor. Reaching his office, he backed into his study to prepare for what would no doubt be a slew of medical reports. He lit the fireplace again, and sipped from his hip flask. He needed to do all his tasks to the utmost perfection.

Living a quiet life without the queen-to-be would be interesting to watch, he thought.

xXx

"Anna, say hi to Beathan! Beathan, this is Anna."

The stolen princess stared up at the giant man before her. She actually had no idea that Beathan had carried her onto _Thunderhead_, because it was dark and she hadn't seen his face.

But now, she looked up at him and just _blinked_. He towered over her, passive but powerful and looming; he was like a glacier.

"Ah... Hello! Hello, Beathan." She half-grinned nervously.

Beathan smiled at her. It was a good idea to befriend her, he thought, because she didn't seem to remember him. "Good day, your majesty," he growled in his gravelly voice. He bowed slowly and with much grace. "I apologise for these circumstances, I truly do, but I hope that I and our crew will make your _stay_ tolerable."

"Awh, he's just a big marshmallow," Olaf giggled, nudging Beathan in the side. "And you're not swearing, and you're using formal language! That's great, Beathan!"

Beathan's cheeks coloured when Anna covered her mouth and giggled. He stood up again, and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "Olaf," he grunted, "you _know_ I put on the act for the crew's sake."

"Don't worry about me!" Anna reassured him. "I'll keep your secret safe! I'm just..." she tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled her cloak around herself. "Just scared of all these... pirates."

Beathan slowly knelt on one knee. "Listen, your majesty. Ellis has already made it explicitly clear that nobody is to so much as touch you. Everybody knows what happens if they interfere with his property. Now wait a moment," he interrupted her as she opened her mouth angrily, "Ellis has laid claim to you as... spoils of victory. I'm sorry for the wording. But it's true. And trust me; as long as you are with me, or Olaf, or even Ellis himself, you are perfectly safe."

Anna nodded, scrunching her eyes shut.

Olaf scratched his chin. "Hey Anna, aren't you still in your royal pyjamas?"

Anna pulled her cloak around herself and blushed, a little embarrassed.

Olaf brought her some of his nicer clothes: A long-sleeved, floppy shirt to protect her from sunburn, shin-length canvas pants that tied at the waist, and a rigid cap. She changed in her cabin. On that first day, Anna began to get her sea legs. She never strayed far from the masts.

xXx

On the third day, Anna tried to make peace with Ellis.

It wasn't easy, and it went against nearly every fibre of her being. But both Olaf and Beathan insisted that Ellis was a man of his word, and that she should let him redeem himself in her eyes. He _isn't as bad as he makes himself out to be_.

So Anna found herself in Ellis' quarters, thumbing through an elaborate book about botany while he stood behind her, wearing not his elaborate tailcoat she was used to seeing, but a loose, off-white shirt.

It was the more exotic plants that caught her attention. She had read about a handful of tropical plants from books at home under a tutor's guidance; a few pages later in this journal, the region changed entirely. These weren't like tropical plants. These looked _sharp_and_half dead_. Plants labelled _banksia_ and _ironbark eucalypt_ and _desert pea_. She cooed over a delicate drawing of bunches of fluffy yellow flowers.

"Where do these grow?" Anna asked curiously.

Ellis pointed to the top of the page. A little heading _Australia_ sat neatly, penned with a flourish and an underline. Anna pouted.

"It's far south and east of India. I hear the Southern Isles sent a fleet of criminals to spend their sentences there," Ellis explained. "I've never been there, but would you like me to tell you what I know?"

Anna's face darkened. The fiery desert pea reminded her of unpleasant things, of an unpleasant man, and a string of events that she would rather forget.

"No thanks," she muttered.

She turned the page.

Ellis' face fell, though Anna could not see.

xXx

On the fourth day, Elsa tried to make peace with Anna.

She wordlessly slipped a page of parchment under Anna's door, and knocked, and stepped to the side, and waited. Soon enough, Anna's footsteps padded along the floor, and she picked up the piece of paper twice the size of her hand. Elsa heard her gasp through the door, and she grinned.

For Anna was staring at intricate, hand-penned ice fractals of Elsa's own design, curling in swirls and lines and circles of organic, icy beauty. It was only in black ink and pencil sketches, but Anna traced her fingers over the spiralling, ever-smaller designs, covering the entire page, right to the corners, and _cooed_. Elsa's heart skipped a beat. She was so utterly endearing.

Anna flipped the page over. There was a little message written with a precise and delicate hand. _I don't know why you felt off yesterday. So in apology, I made you this; it didn't take long. I hope you appreciate it, Firefly._

It was signed with a little _Captain Ellis_, and a tiny underline. Anna recognised the handwriting; Ellis must have put the heading _Australia_ on the botany book.

"Didn't take long...?" Anna muttered disbelievingly.

Elsa smiled. She always had an eye for geometry. Her stomach fluttered when Anna added in a whisper,

"It's _beautiful_."

Elsa couldn't have stopped her ear-to-ear grin if she'd tried.

xXx

On the fifth day, Anna tried to look over the edge of the boat. Olaf hugged her strongly around the middle, a constant reassurance that she wouldn't fall in the ocean.

She stared into the churning waves, the roiling sea, the unfathomable infinite force that had swallowed her parents. As far as the eye could see, right to the hazy horizon. She took in the tongues of water striking against the hull of the ship, so many metres down, threatening to swallow up this grass seed of a boat floating on the surface of a deep, vast, unfathomable, void...

Anna stumbled backwards, nauseous.

Olaf caught her, and took her back to her cabin, covering her forehead with a cool cloth.

When her head stopped spinning, she cried.

xXx

On the sixth day, Olaf organised what amounted to a blind date.

_Meet me at the prow of the ship before dawn_, he told Ellis and Anna separately. _I've got a surprise for you_ and _I need to talk to you_. Anna explained her tendency to sleep in. Olaf just said he'd wake her up himself.

So in the morning he did rouse her, and immediately dashed upstairs and onto the deck, out of sight. Anna called out for him, and followed in her sleeping dress. She shivered in the cold air, but jogged down to the other end of _Thunderhead_. Her sea legs had fully set in after so many days of travel; she was surprised, and a little unnerved by the fact that she was getting used to any of this, but thankful for the added ease of mobility.

By now she regretted not bringing her cloak. It was _damn_ cold. But then she was never one for foresight. She grumbled her objections, chattering her teeth.

Imagine her surprise when it was not Olaf but Ellis waiting for her in the pre-dawn light.

"Wait, what are _you_ doing here?" she said incredulously, hanging onto the same railing she had nearly a week prior.

Ellis just blinked. "I could ask you the same, Firefly."

"What about Olaf?"

"...I think he set us up."

They stared at each other for a moment. And then burst into giggles. "I'm going to cut his rations," Ellis said sarcastically.

Anna frowned. "Don't you dare. Or I'll sneak food out for him."

Ellis rolled his eyes and strode to the edge of the ship. "I was joking. He doesn't deserve that. Did you like my drawing?"

Anna's eyes lit up. "Oh, I loved it!" she rambled. "It was amazing, I mean I could never do anything like that. How did you do it? Did you use a lot of maths? And rulers? Or did you draw it by eye?"

Ellis' heart fluttered. "I drew it by eye," he said bashfully. The praise was getting to his head. He cleared his throat, and composed himself. "I had a lot of practice, and I'm... familiar with ice."

"Ohhh. Okay." Anna nodded, looking to the still horizon, where the sky was lightening by a fraction every second that passed. She yawned, and rubbed her eye. She was _definitely_ not used to getting up this early. She felt the thin line of scar tissue that sat high on her right cheekbone, and it made her think.

"Hey – sir. Captain. Ellis. Can I ask you something?"

He glanced over his shoulder, blinked, and spun on the spot to face her. "Yes, Firefly?"

Anna drew her fingertip along the scar. "Was it really an accident?"

She could see the cogs clicking into place in his head in the moment before he said a tiny _oh_. He closed his eyes and sighed. Anna watched him walk up to her with trepidation on both sides.

"It was an accident," he murmured, raising his gloved hand as if he wanted to run his thumb across it. "I'm sorry, Firefly. I never meant to hurt you, and I don't plan on doing it again. It was a _reflex_. Reflexes are _involuntary_."

Anna pressed her lips into a grim line, hugging her arms around herself. "Well you've done a really good job of assuring that oh, I don't know, I don't get _emotionally_ hurt."

Her words stung. His face flickered. "I'm trying, Firefly, I really am. Ransom isn't pretty," he muttered. "I'm doing the best I can to make it up to you."

"Ransom? You're going to _sell_ me back to my family?" Anna exclaimed, her voice rising.

"Firefly, _please_, give me a chance to make it up to you."

Anna wanted to scream. She wanted to punch Ellis, punch him hard, punch him right off the deck of his _damned_ ship, but she also wanted to hug her knees to her chest and bury her face in her arms and curl up next to Kristoff, and rant about how much wanting to see this pirate ruined her life.

She pouted, and left a lengthy silence.

Ellis looked at her with pleading, sky-blue eyes. Or maybe it was the colour of a glacier. Anna didn't know. It was an intense blue colour, and she wasn't good at metaphors.

"Okay," she said, breaking eye contact and looking out over the ocean. The sun had nearly breached the horizon, and the glare made her squint.

Ellis watched her watch the sky. He was going to make it up to her, nothing more. That's what he told himself, as he followed her squint out to the horizon. The sun, vivid, deep red, finally showed itself. They both shaded their eyes, and looked as best they could at the dawn of a new day.

xXx

On the sixth night, it rained.

Anna retreated deep into her cabin, shutting out the world by burrowing into the woollen blanket and holding the pillows over her head. There was no lightning, but that fact made it none the less terrifying. She fervently prayed that the boat wouldn't sink; it occupied all her thoughts.

A fist slammed on her door, making her jump. "Anna? Anna! Are you in there?" Olaf called out.

"Yes!" She shouted, muffled by the pillow.

"Okay, I think you said yes but I couldn't really hear you. So I'm coming in, you'd better be decent," he warned, opening the door.

Anna peeked out from under the covers. He was bedraggled, sopping wet, and grinning like a maniac.

"Anna!" he crowed. "It's _raining_!"

"I _know_!" She shouted back, acutely aware of the constant drumming of water hitting wood and trickling away.

"Come on!" he shouted, tracking water all over the room with his oversized rain boots (which Anna did not know he owned) and dragging off her woollen blanket. "_The sky's awake_!"

"_Olaf_!" She yelped, scrabbling to cover herself up with the warm throw again. She was becoming irked, and a little panicked.

"Please, Anna, we're collecting rainwater, I'll lash us to the mast if you really want! I just want you to see the rain! I promised you won't get hurt here, and I _am_ keeping my word," he said solemnly. "There's nothing to be scared of except the past. And it's _past_, it's _behind_ you. Your parents may be gone, and it hurts, I _understand_, but they're always going to be alive in your heart. You need to look _forwards_ now. The sky or the sea won't hurt you on _Thunderhead_. You're _safe_, Anna."

She stared up at his pleading face, drops of water running out of his hair and down his cheeks. Her heart pounded like the rain. This ingrained fear of the sea had kept her immobile in its coils for nearly a whole year. And now this young man, whose friendship she valued almost as much as Kristoff's, was telling her to shed the old skin and be born anew.

She breathed deeply. "I trust you, Olaf."

His face lit up even further than before. "I knew you would! Come on! Get some scrappy clothes on, you don't want your sleeping clothes getting wet..."

When Anna stepped onto the deck, it was pouring down. She squawked in protest, backed under cover again, and hugged herself. The rain had soaked her hair and shoulders immediately. Olaf gave her a bear hug from behind, picked her up and bodily carried her into the rain. The water in his shirt pressed into her back, and she yelped. Olaf chuckled. He was _radiating_ heat. The rain was cold, oh so cold, but it was washing away the smell of salt that permeated everything. He was warming her up, frankly. The rain didn't feel so bad. Every nerve in her body felt alive, lit by the rain falling from the sky.

She could barely see in front of her; the only light was provided by lanterns, with curved glass covers to keep the water out of the oil-fed flames, lashed all over the deck. It was dim, but she could see silhouettes of people and containers; barrels, flasks, and water gourds, set out to catch the rain. Not many men were on the deck. She assumed that they were warm and dry in their beds, or hammocks. Olaf slept in a hammock. She recalled with some clarity that she'd never asked him how the other pirates slept.

Without warning, Olaf jumped right ahead and flounced around in the rain. Anna yelped at the loss of warmth and the cold rain that fell onto her back instead. She had half a mind to chase Olaf and get her revenge, but her body was giving up its heat to the water now, and she felt the temperature becoming more familiar.

She reached her hands skywards. The rain splattered on her fingers and palms, trickled down her wrists, forearms, shoulders, and soaked into the short-sleeved shirt she had picked up. She tilted her head back. The drops fell on her forehead, her cheeks, her chin, her fiery red hair, bringing with them new life from the heavens themselves. A fierce shivering started in her core, making her whole body vibrate. She batted her eyelids against the cool water and _grinned_. Olaf was right. The past was just that.

Olaf ran around her, laughing. The boat rocked, but neither of them stumbled. Anna laughed. She laughed with Olaf. She felt _alive_. He dragged her by her hands right past the lamps. Their shadows danced on the deck, thrown by their feet and the refraction of the rain. The yellow light lit vague shapes in the dark rain, with the stars and the waning moon blotted out by clouds.

It was just them, dancing and jumping in the pouring rain on the deck of a ship, gleeful children without a care in the world.

This storm was natural. Clouds had formed soon after sunrise, and by late afternoon Anna and Olaf were rudely interrupted from a half-hearted game of chess by the shadow of a thick, large cloud cutting off the light streaming through the porthole. Cloud cover persisted after sundown, and the first light raindrops fell about an hour after dark.

It always relaxed the crew to see weather that was not created by Elsa.

Elsa stood on the bowsprit, with her hands near frozen to the ropes and her feet so securely planted that not even the most powerful winds or the heaviest rain of this downpour could deter her. She watched the silhouettes of the two gallivanting young people, and felt soft warmth spreading from her heart, right through her torso, arms and legs. It felt like yearning. It felt like love.

But her fears crept into her thoughts again, fears about being broken, fears like ice, and she stamped the warm feelings out. Feelings meant you got hurt.

And she would _not_ fall for Anna.

Elsa stepped back onto Thunderhead, and took the darkest path through the lantern light back to her cabin. She passed Olaf and Anna, but neither did she acknowledge them nor did they see her, were they so caught up in their fun and games.

While Elsa was drying off and settling down for the night, Anna and Olaf danced and laughed until they were soaked, and then they kept playing until they could not stand to keep moving. At that time, they said their goodbyes, retreated back below decks, bundled themselves into something warm and dry, and hid under their covers.

Anna faded into sleep without fear. She was no longer afraid of the sea and rain.

xXx

On the seventh day, Anna caught a double dose of the flu and severe homesickness. She was bedridden, simply too sad to consider moving, on top of a stuffy nose, a fever, and a cough. Beathan visited once, and left her a get well bundle of sweetmeats, a wineskin, a sliding puzzle, and a very soft animal fur. She smiled groggily at him and said the most convoluted, nose-blocked _thabks Bep-en_ he'd ever heard.

She was alone with the delicious sugary fruity treats for about ten minutes before there was a gentle knock at the door. The latch was undone, and Ellis looked in. Anna couldn't see him yet from where she was lying, but of course she knew it was him: Who else would knock so delicately? Certainly not the rest of the crew. Anna was off limits to them. And despite the fact that a quarter of the men here could snap their captain's neck like a twig, Ellis' word was law.

Anna chewed on the little slice of gummy orange peel as she watched Ellis delicately lower his weight onto the edge of the bed. He looked at her with a wry smirk. "Were you gallivanting in the rain last night?" he teased.

Anna stuck her lower lip out and snorted in to clear her nose. Ellis chuckled at the way Anna's nose scrunched up and her shoulders did the tiniest little wiggle.

"Wha're _you_ lar-fig at?" Anna managed.

"I'm _lar-fig_ at the way you were so forward to catching a flu," he said dryly.

Anna looked thoroughly offended. "Olaf _codvinced_ me!"

Ellis' lopsided smirk grew into a full mischievous grin. "Yes, but you _were_ convinced."

Anna's mouth dropped open. "Not fair!" she exclaimed, throwing an orange peel sweetmeat at Ellis.

He caught it and laughed, biting down. Anna watched him eat with the most ridiculous scowl on her face. Ellis laughed silently.

Anna slumped down the headrest a little. "I wish Beathan gave me some chocolate," she complained, nose still clogged. "I could _really_do with some chocolate right now."

Ellis raised his eyebrows. "You like chocolate?"

Anna scoffed. "Do I like chocolate? Chocolate is the greatest thing invented since horse riding! ...Wait, why are you looking at me like that?"

Ellis had the most conspiratorial smirk on his face. "If you'll excuse me, Firefly, I'll be right back." He stood and left before she could blink.

Anna was miffed. What was that for? She exhaled grumpily. Just like him to play that _cool and mysterious_ card. He was probably going to leave her with her horrible cold and her fever and her impending headache.

Barely a minute had gone by and Ellis was back in the room again, face curiously blank but eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Well, that took you long enough," Anna said accusingly.

Ellis pulled out a small package, wrapped in waxed paper and tied with twine. Anna's mouth fell open. "You did not," she whispered excitedly as Ellis sat back on the bed, pulling off the twine.

Anna nearly leapt out of bed in delight when he passed her three little chocolates.

"I hope you don't mind that I prefer dark to over-sweetened varieties," Ellis apologised, watching Anna cram the first piece into her mouth with the grace of a barbarian, with horrified interest.

"Where did you get this?!" Anna exclaimed in utter delight. "It tastes _great_!"

Ellis beamed with pride and relief. "I bought it in Corona. Yes, contrary to popular belief, pirates _do_ buy things," he added dryly, daintily consuming two chocolates in quick succession.

Anna snorted, jamming the next two pieces in at once. "I never actually doubted that," she said. Her words were muffled by confectionary.

Ellis ate a third with a thoughtful hum, watching the way Anna licked the near-nonexistant chocolate off her fingertips. He thought she might need an intervention when she gnawed on the pad of her thumb. "Can I have some more?" she asked.

Ellis laughed. "No way, look at you. You'll eat me out of house and home."

"Or ship and boat," Anna joked. "And I think that- Ohh. Oh that is _nasty_," she groaned, scrunching her eyes shut and clutching her pounding skull.

Ellis, concerned, was at her side immediately. "Are you alright?"

"—Headache," Anna mumbled. Ellis took the cloth that Anna had on her head a few days prior off her bedside. Anna had already managed to make a mess of the cabin, and in any other circumstance it would irk him. But maybe he was going soft for Anna. He ducked outside again.

A deep breath in, and a little concentration – he froze the towel into a lump. _Shit_.

After a minute of whacking, the towel was cold but dry, and a little ice was folded inside. _Perfect_.

"Hey," he said to Anna when he returned, "Lie down."

She gave him a side-eye, but complied.

Ellis lay the towel on her face, and she blinked. The coolness was blissful; it elicited a satisfied _ooh_ from the sick girl. Anna held the towel to her face and hummed in appreciation.

They sat in silence for a while. Anna vaguely recalled how she once felt that it would be incredibly easy to talk to Ellis, even all that time ago in the dungeon. And speaking of that time – he wasn't being as... _forward_ as before. It _was_ incredibly easy to talk to him. Olaf _and_ Beathan had said to give Ellis a chance to redeem himself.

Anna's low reservoir of trust was difficult to fill, and it was a long way to the top, but she – or more accurately, Ellis – was getting there.

"Thank you, Ellis," she said softly.

He looked at her and smiled. "You're welcome, Firefly."


	8. The Thaw

On the eighth day, Anna was kept in quarantine.

She had slept through most of the previous day, with Ellis at her side. He'd told Beathan to take care of the crew, while he smoothed her damp hair off her face and kept the cool cloth pressed to her forehead as her body fought off the invisible invaders.

When the sun had risen again, Anna's nose had cleared partially and she was well enough to walk, but all three of her friends – yes, she thought, Ellis was a friend – made sure she didn't spread the germ to the rest of the crew. As a result, Anna was going stir-crazy in her cabin. She lay on the bed, slept for an hour and a half on the floor, counted the gentle rocking of the ship until she had felt five hundred tips to either side, had the most non-stop word vomits about everything she could think of to Olaf, indulged Beathan to three games of checkers, and by then it was only midday.

Presently Olaf was walking her through his prized book about gardening. He would read her each page, as her eyes were a little sore from mucus build-up in her sinuses and it hurt to focus on anything for too long.

After what was easily a fifteen-minute rant about all the things he could make with carrots, she placed a finger over his mouth. "Olaf," she said tiredly, "I appreciate it. But look what I'm dealing with." She gestured at her worn-down face, and sneezed right on cue. "I appreciate that you love carrots," she said, wiping her nose on a handkerchief, "But you need to draw the line _somewhere_."

Olaf paused. "Well, I... Fair enough. Is there something else you want to do today?"

A low growl escaped Anna's mouth. "Anything but _this_!" she exclaimed, falling on her back and splaying her arms out.

Olaf gave her a sympathetic look. "I think you should be thankful that neither Ellis nor Gunther confined you to your bed specifically; just your cabin."

Anna sighed at the mention of the captain and the ship's doctor. He was right. However. "What if I give you the flu? Or Beathan? Or Ellis?"

"Oh, don't worry about us. Beathan never gets sick. He told me so. He's hardly been sick at all when the last three illnesses went around!" Olaf looked reverent for a moment. "I on the other hand like to keep _very_ clean. I wash my hands whenever I can, and use my right hand for clean things like eating and washing and my left hand for gross things like going to the-"

"_Thank you_, Olaf, I get the picture," Anna cut him off quickly, inching away from his left side.

He snickered. "Don't worry, I wash my hands before and after bathroom breaks and especially before and after I visit you."

Anna laughed lightly in relief. "I thought you said fresh water was precious?"

"Oh, it definitely is. But we boil whatever leftover liquids we have, and catch the steam, and throw whatever's left behind overboard," he said, as if it were obvious and she should've known already. "And if we can't boil it away for whatever reason we filter it using sand, and cloth, and charcoal or ash. There's a room just under the deck where most of that happens, we call it the Stew Room. Ellis put the idea forwards despite some objections to what seemed like a really silly idea, but after we could keep our fresh water for so much longer everybody began to appreciate it."

Anna nodded through his explanation. "Oh," she said at the end, smirking. "Sounds like these pirates don't have a real sense of self-hygiene."

Olaf snorted. "You'd be surprised."

"By their sense of hygiene or their total lack of it?"

"Both," Olaf laughed, snapping his gardening book shut.

Anna laughed. "Hey, do you think you could take me to the Stew Room?"

"Believe me, Anna, I would," Olaf nodded, "But you need to stay under lock and key right now. If your cold spreads to the whole crew through all our fresh water it would be horrible for everyone. Wait until you don't feel anything anymore; it could be tomorrow, or it could be the day after. And then wait another day just to be safe."

"You're telling me to stay in this cabin for three days?!" Anna exclaimed in mortification.

"Possibly two," he corrected, though it didn't make any difference to her.

"I could barely take everything so far today! I'm going to go insane!"

"You could drink all that wine and then sleep the whole day," Olaf half-joked. Anna raised her eyebrow.

"You really expect me to drink all that wine? No, no, I just remembered, more to the point – this is all _your_ fault! _You_ convinced me to run around in the rain with you!"

"I thought you knew that getting sick was a likely side effect of running around in the rain!"

"That's what Ellis said! Stop blaming me!"

"Whoa there, Firefly, it's partially Olaf's fault, but it's also yours. You stayed outside for at least an hour and a half in that storm."

Anna jumped in surprise and whipped her head around when she saw none other than Ellis himself, arms crossed loosely over his chest and leaning lazily on the doorframe. He was wearing his trademark lopsided smirk. Anna felt her cheeks heating up in embarrassment and a little anger.

"So nice you could pay a visit," Anna said dryly.

Ellis snorted. "I've come to check up on you. Captain's honour."

Anna raised her eyebrows, made a half-lidded, sassy pout, and laid the sarcasm on thick. "You've got a lot of honour, I see, Mister _Pirate_ Captain, Sir."

"Our crew is one of the most respected there is, you know," Olaf interjected. "One of the most respected at the summer solstice gathering at a particular point in the Mediterranean ocean, anyway."

Anna blinked. "You mean to say, there are _more_ pirates?"

"Firefly, who do you _think_ raids the spice roads?" Ellis chided. "The _Romans_?"

Anna's pout intensified into a frown. "The Roman Empire dissolved centuries ago."

"Exactly," he chuckled in reply. "I brought you some of my books. Would you like me to read them?" He held up three thick volumes, bound in leather.

Anna's mood turned on a dime. Her whole face lit up.

Five minutes later Olaf had knowingly taken leave – with his small leather cap, after he realised that Anna had not touched it during the whole course of the seven-plus-days they were on board. Ellis was preparing to read out loud the first book of the non sequitur trio to Anna as she leant on his side with their backs to the wall. They made a charming picture in the little cabin on Thunderhead; the princess of the land, and the outlaw of the sea.

But then, Ellis paused. He withdrew his hand from where it hovered over the first page, and worried his lower lip with his teeth. Anna noticed immediately.

"Is there something wrong?" she inquired.

"It's..." Ellis worried his lip again. "It's in French," he admitted.

Anna, who had not been paying very much attention to the book at all, looked down. It was indeed in French. "Oh," she said in a flat tone. "Do you speak French?"

"I... Don't worry, I'll get a different book," Ellis said lamely as he shut the volume and reached for another.

Anna put her hand on the French book. Or more accurately, due to not looking, she covered Ellis' hand with her own in her attempt to stop him. It worked, but not in the way she wanted.

Upon feeling pressure on his hand Ellis hissed sharply and jerked away. Anna flinched back in response, vividly remembering that time in the dungeon where he'd reacted in the same way and had given her the scar that sat high on her cheekbone. The one that was just shy of her right eye. There was a taut moment of silence where they stared at each other. The hull creaked, and faint voices could be heard from the men who were enjoying the post-rain sunshine up on the deck.

Ellis broke the moment first. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Firefly. I get... nervous."

Anna's heart was still thumping in her chest, but she took a deep breath and exhaled the first of her worry away. "No, no, no, it's okay. Really," she laughed, "I was just trying to put my hand on the book. I missed spectacularly, of course, like I'm totally a klutz most of the time – I wanted to tell you that I'm okay if you read in French. I don't mind."

Her words helped. Anna watched the tension gradually drain out of Ellis like water out of a sponge. She smiled encouragingly. Ellis half-smiled back, and opened the book again. Anna huddled close and got comfortable for the long haul. Ellis took a deep breath, focussed on the letters, and began to read.

The words were so foreign to Anna's ears, despite having heard French dignitaries pass through Arendelle on many an occasion. She listened to the way the language lilted, flowed, rolled off Ellis' tongue. She tried to keep up with where she thought he was, and had a private moment of enjoyment when she finished the first page at the same time that he turned it.

Anna really didn't worry about what he was reading. It could be the French Dictionary for all she cared. His voice sounded wonderful, and she felt herself relaxing the next time he turned the page. She began to drift away from the focus on the page-versus-words, and instead listened to the sound of his voice. She could feel his exquisitely soft braid against her own hair, and could smell traces of cold, salt and metal. He was very slight, too, she thought sleepily. She shifted her face up to his shoulder, pressing her cheek into the same off-white shirt as days ago. He could probably pass as a woman if he really felt like it.

Ellis, meanwhile, found a deep sense of comfort in Anna leaning against his side. It was lovely. She _trusted_ him. She probably had no idea that he was reading a fairy tale. _La Belle et la Bête_. It was his favourite story. And now he was sharing it with his friend. _Friend_, he repeated, a reminder to himself. _Love_ was all poisoned honey and sugar-coated barbs. _Lover_, he didn't want to think about.

Nevertheless, as Anna slipped into sleep, everything felt so natural and so calming to Ellis that, for the moment, the personal, self-enforced mindset slipped away. It was not Ellis who was reading, powerful and savage Ellis, revered captain of a deadly efficient sea-faring crew, but Elsa, elegant, refined, as passionate as a snowstorm, and as gentle as the calm sea under moonlight.

The difference soothed her to her soul.

xXx

Somewhere during what felt like the second week on board _Thunderhead_, Anna began to lose track of time.

She had plenty of alone time in her cabin, and in the complete lull in activity, she would dream of home. This was the longest she'd been away, _ever_. Even a three-day camping trip with Kristoff to the mountains had been hard. But this?

There was no telling when it would end. And that hurt the most.

Waking up in the mornings took the full toll on her emotions. Before she opened her eyes, she believed that she would look up and see pretty little rosemaling all over her four-poster bed's canopy. But then reality would set in, and a wave of homesickness would roll over her, and she would try to sleep again and try not to cry and try harder not to wish for Kristoff's bear hugs.

Thankfully, the constant sleep meant that her body could heal. The invisible germs left her quicker than normal, and each day she woke up feeling more and more relaxed.

Of course she started waking up later too. She didn't mind that at all. It meant more time asleep and less time to think of home.

xXx

The day after her flu was entirely gone, Anna grabbed Olaf's hand and cajoled him into taking her to the Stew Room. She desperately needed entertainment.

Walking around under the deck was great fun. There were air vents at periodic intervals down here. Anna wondered why there weren't any at the stern, near the sleeping quarters. She wrinkled her nose up. Heavens knew they needed it down there with all the men who probably never washed.

The Stew Room was nothing like the images Anna had conjured up. It was occupied by three very large metal cylinders, with a pipe leading out of the back of each one (Anna could only assume they joined together somewhere out of sight). A pair of thick leather gloves lay on the floor beside the cylinders. A very large basin sat next to all three of these, and contained clear water. Many of the barrels and containers that had been catching rain days prior filled the room. Some were empty. Firewood, big pieces of hardwood, was stacked to the ceiling in another corner. Anna tried to figure out the setup with furrowed brows. Olaf watched her expectantly.

"Okay. This is weird. There are big metal barrels with some pipes, clearly, and the water... And wood? Fire?" Anna stared. "I don't get it," she eventually said.

"Oh! That's okay!" Olaf grinned. "Look," he explained, crouching. Anna followed suit. "You see this hatch? Fire goes here..." He demonstrated, pulling open the door at the bottom of one cylinder to reveal a small stone-lined pit full of burning charcoal. Fire was the _last_ thing Anna was expecting on this ship. Olaf slammed the door shut when embers threatened to fly up on the hot, dry air, and singe their faces. Anna held her ears; the noise was loud.

"The air vents also lead down from the ceiling to feed the fire. That's what the gloves are for. And down here is where the water goes," he continued, pointing at another hatch. This one had a little rim underneath it. "So we pour the water in here, the fire evaporates it into steam and goes up through these layers in the cylinder, the steam hits the roof and turns into water, and drips into the basin there."

Anna _ooh_ed. She understood now. "So you have three, for efficiency?"

Olaf nodded. "It helps. It's still really slow, though. We have a few really big barrels of fresh water near the kitchens. This is just for the _really_ clean stuff, and to prevent contamination. Most of the rainwater from the last downpour went to the barrels in the kitchen."

"I was not expecting fire here," Anna joked.

"Nobody expects fire on a seafaring vessel."

Anna leapt into the air in fright. "_Ellis!_" She shouted accusingly. "Stop sneaking up on us like that!"

The guilty-as-charged captain was once again in the doorway. He laughed loudly. "Hello, Firefly. I just wanted to warn you that there's a lot of cloud cover over the horizon. Assuming it's heading towards us, we'll have another rainstorm tonight. I implore you to wrap up warmly and stay inside. But if you _have_ to play in the rain again, _please_ take an oiled cloak and a three-cornered hat to keep the rain off your face."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Yes, mother," she said sarcastically. "Cover my face with something that went out of style before either of us were born."

Ellis nodded sagely. "I'm glad we understand each other," he said with equal sarcasm. "It makes things so much easier around here. Ohh... I don't feel so well," he mumbled suddenly. Olaf was at his side immediately. They exchanged a fleeting look.

"Are you alright?" Anna exclaimed at the mood whiplash.

"Yeah, I'm just... dizzy," Ellis said gently. He stood up straight, but had a strange expression on his face. "I think I caught the flu from you."

Anna made a soft tutting noise in sympathy. It was understandable, what with how often he'd come to visit. "I'm so sorry," she apologised.

"No, no, it's okay," Ellis said, eye twitching.

"Well!" Olaf said suddenly, ushering Ellis out of the Stew Room. "Time for you to get out of here. No contamination, no sir captain. Go to your cabin and I'll be with you shortly, okay?"

Ellis rolled his eyes, but complied.

"Anna, if you want to go talk to Beathan, he should be in the kitchens. I might be a while, okay?" Olaf said over his shoulder as they left.

Anna nodded in affirmation. She sighed when they left. Another quick glance around the Stew Room revealed nothing interesting whatsoever. _Might as well go to the kitchen._

xXx

The kitchens were _just_ as stuffy as the crew's quarters. Anna wrinkled her nose in disgust.

She looked around at everything. There was a lot of oversized cooking ware, barrels of food, lots of... everything, really. Enough to feed anywhere between seventy to ninety people, anyway. There was an abundance of potatoes. Anna remembered how she had learned firsthand a myriad of ways potatoes could be prepared for eating so far on _Thunderhead_. There were tables and benches bolted to the floor, oaken planks sanded down. The origin of the trees said something about the origin of the ship, Anna thought. Either that or the oak wood had been imported.

True to Olaf's word, Beathan was in the kitchen. He was seated at one table, opposite two other men. One was tall and shrewd, and the other was neither tall nor short, but muscular.

"Beathan!" Anna called, jogging over. He turned around, and his face split into a wide grin. The other two men scrutinised her. The scrawny one's eyes widened and he stared. Anna glared, then resolutely ignored him.

"Anna! What brings you to this fuckin' hellhole?" Beathan said fondly. (He gave her a sly wink, to show that he was putting on his rough sailor act. Anna's smile grew wider for a moment, to show that she'd got the message.) He gestured at the two men opposite him. "This 'ere's Stephan, and his useless fuckin' sticklimbed friend here is Trent."

Trent scowled at Beathan. "Very fucking funny. Who's the pretty girl?" He said slyly, eyeing Anna up and down. "She looks like a catch."

As easily expected, Anna did _not_ react nicely to his perversion.

"Excuse me, _sir_, I am the soon-to-be _Queen_ of Arendelle, Norway," she said, with every ounce of grace she could muster. "So stand down before I-"

"Methinks it makes you all the more valuable, then," Trent shrugged, leaning back. Stephan slapped him, but he just laughed. "If you're a queen, then your lover must be a king! And I want the crown!"

Beathan's growing anger was _nothing_ to Anna's fury, coursing like fire in her veins and boiling over into physical force. She stormed around the table, took a solid fighting stance, and with a ghost of a similar event from the past flashing before her eyes, she socked Trent in the face, _hard_.

Trent _roared_ in pain, black and white stars exploding behind his eyes. He clutched his broken nose and scrabbled back against Stephan, who was roaring with laughter.

Anna cradled her right hand, massaging her knuckles. It throbbed and would probably bruise, but it wasn't anything serious. She turned her gaze to Beathan, and was met with a stare of great reverence.

This bold and brash act would later prove to give her an incredibly good standing among the crew.

Stephan, meanwhile, had Trent's head in his lap. He quickly pulled the broken nose back into position. It made a popping noise. Trent yelled at the new pain, but accepted the treatment without further complaint.

Anna slipped into place beside Beathan, and gave Trent a heated glare over the table. He returned it, blood trickling out of his nose.

Beathan growled. "I hope that teaches you to mess with women. They're _fire_ and _ice_, I _told_ you bastard. As I was saying, we've got a week, maybe two, probably more until we get to the Mediterranean. An' then we need to find the fuckin' _School_."

"You're trying to find a _school_?" Anna said in disbelief. And then, "Do they teach people how to be respectful there?"

"The _Triggerfish School_, my lady; it's an inn with a _great_ bar that numerous rogue ships and their crews meet up at, every summer solstice," Stephan explained, amused. "We're one of those ships. And I daresay this useless idiot could learn some manners. You deserved that," he added to Trent. The man in question scowled, gingerly mopping up the blood with his sleeve.

"Oh, that sounds great. Captain Ellis caught the flu, by the way," Anna announced. "I'm pretty sure he does, anyway. He was spending a lot of time with me after I got sick, and he looked pretty sick today. He snuck up on me, but then he got really dizzy, and clutched his stomach. Olaf took him to his cabin a few minutes ago."

The three men exchanged glances.

"Your majesty," Trent said mockingly. "I can see exactly why the Captain took you for her own purposes... but _by gods_ are you dense."

There was a tense silence.

"Trent," Stephan growled, looking about ready to hit him upside the head with a mace.

Anna did a double take. She looked up at Beathan, who was resolutely avoiding eye contact.

"_Her_?"

"His tongue slipped," Beathan rumbled.

"Actually it didn't," Trent said, still dabbing the blood away from his upper lip. "Captain Ellis is a woman."

Anna, for once in her life, was shocked into silence.

"God _fucking_ damnit, Trent!" Stephan swore.

"She's called Elsa, we got it out of Olaf because he's the only person she trusts enough to help her," Trent added, now that the tip of the iceberg had been discovered. "There's only so many ways you can hide the fact that you get pissed as hell and have to hide away in your cabin once a month, every month, when it isn't even the full moon."

Beathan looked one click away from manslaughter.

Anna just sat there in mute shock. The irony of her earlier thought while he – _she_ – was reading the French book came back like a slap to the face.

Ellis was a woman.

_Elsa_ was a woman.

"I..." Anna said dumbly. "Doesn't she trust you?"

Stephan laughed darkly. "Would you trust anyone aboard this godforsaken ship? Or _anyone_ living this life? We're criminals, sweetheart. She doesn't trust _anyone_."

"Except for Olaf," Anna said. "And Beathan," she added, looking up at him. He gave her a side eye.

"Yeah, those two are basically her minions," Trent said to Anna, completely ignoring the man who was sitting _right there_. "Olaf's a fucking idiot, but at least Beathan can fight."

Anna placed calming hands on the large man's shoulders when he rose like a tidal wave, keeping him in his seat. _Freya preserve you Trent I will twist your nose so hard you'll be breathing in raindrops during the next downpour,_ Stephan threatened.

"Don't you _dare_ speak that way about Olaf," Beathan growled.

"Oh look, you even sound like him too, now. Don't worry, I won't. Not while you're listening, anyway," Trent countered slimily, settling down into a quiet and submissive posture. Stephan's fingers twitched like he wanted to twist Trent's nose the full three-sixty degrees.

"Well, I wasn't counting on hearing anything like this. Do you... Do you think I should talk to her about it? I don't think it's a problem at all," Anna asked Beathan with forced cheer. It still felt strange saying _her_.

Beathan shook his head rapidly as their conversation split off from Trent and Stephan, each pair ignoring the other. "Not unless you want her to have an emotional breakdown. Believe me. I've learned from my mistakes."

Anna curled up a little. "Alright. But what about..."

"She'll be out watching the rain tonight. I recommend you stay inside, and sleep. Now go entertain yourself for the rest of the day, I'm afraid the captain's not going to be available much for the next three to five days," Beathan said with as much humour as he could.

Anna did not notice the absolute certainty with which he talked about the rainstorm happening.

Anna nodded, and reached her arms around Beathan to hug him. Her hands did not touch, such a large man was he. This thought made her nearly giggle.

Beathan gave her a great hug back. "I'm going to tell the whole crew that you punched Trent so hard you broke his useless pointy fuckin' nose and it went flying into the potato barrel," he joked.

Anna crinkled up her nose when she smiled. "If you insist. I'm gonna go." She stood, hopped over the bench, and glided back through the ship. "Bye!" she called back down.

She smiled when she heard Stephan's voice bidding her farewell alongside Beathan's. And then she was alone. Nearly alone, anyway. Men still passed her: so many men. She was near the bunks, why would there _not_ be men milling around?

"Elsa," she whispered to herself, just under her breath. The name felt strange on her tongue. "Elsa. Ellis. Elsa, Elsa, Elsa." She paused, rounding the stairs to the deck again. "Ellis."

And then she was back in fresh air. The sky was bright and the clouds smiled down, hung in the bright blue diamond stratosphere.

Anna walked up to the railing, gripped it, and stared at the sea. The ocean was friendly today, it seemed. She smiled again, noting with wonder how quickly Olaf had helped to soothe her fears of the sea.

"Elsa," she said again, just a little louder than before. It was a regal name. It sounded better than Ellis, she thought. It didn't sit quite _right_, since the revelation was so new, but it certainly fit him. Her. Still needed to work on the pronouns.

Anna looked up at the sky, and wondered what other secrets Elsa had. She wondered what had befallen Arendelle. Her heart sank into her stomach as wishes for home began to itch at her mind again.

xXx

Without Elsa's presence influencing the atmosphere, Arendelle had begun to thaw.

The plant life hadn't been _too_ severely affected by the return of winter, but delicate shoots and saplings had succumbed to the cold, and died. The crops were checked, and rechecked; some farmers had lost portions of their crops due to early germinating, and others got off completely stock-free, with barely a single seed damaged. The flower industry wasn't wanting for repayments, and generally, spring had arrived two months later this year.

However, due to the winter being (technically) artificial, it was still tied to Elsa's influence. Her warming up to Anna led to the winter disappearing rapidly. Far too rapidly.

The fjord cracked and broke up, nearly causing disasters when children and adults alike misjudged the strength of the ice and tried to skate on the unstable surfaces. Snow melted en masse, causing the ground to become saturated and muddy. Anything that had germinated in a frost hollow along the sides of the mountains became entrenched in water, and died from saturation. Ironically, most crops that had survived the return of winter did not survive the return of spring.

And to add to this tragedy to Arendelle's economy, the ice harvesters' crates and stacks of ice wrapped in cloth and packed in sawdust and wood and sawdust and wood, to be exported to warm places, began to melt. There was panic, but nothing could be done, save for taking what could be kept into cellars and mines.

It was a severe weather change, and one that brought with it flurries of activity from Arendelle's royal court. The public was in near complete obliviousness about the young queen regent's disappearance, but there were already people beginning to question the likelihood of a scandal. It was actually a surprising whole week and a half before _Thunderhead_ was noticed missing from the docks. And then, people began to question. People began to question the royal court.

Days prior to Anna discovering Elsa's first secret, Kristoff had began to question how fast they could send search parties; he was tired, he was pining for his closest friend. He wished her safe from harm with every fibre of his being, and he wished that he could fly across the earth on Sven's back with his hooves flying over the ground and nothing in their way. Alas, neither he nor Sven was a bird, and neither could fly.

Evan began to question how he could slip into this scheme, and become part of the search party. He kept a very, _very_ close eye on Arendelle court when they began to formulate a plan to retrieve the princess. They had a whole world to search.

They would not stop until she was found.


	9. The Woman

"Oh, oh _hell_ this is _not_ an appropriate time," Elsa whimpered.

Olaf made a shushing noise and hoisted her up. "Don't worry, I'll get you to your room. What are you going to tell Anna?"

"I'm going to tell her _nothing_," Elsa hissed. It felt like someone was trying to draw and quarter her pelvis. "The flu is an acceptable cover story. I'll wait it out."

"What about the rain tonight? You see every rainfall through."

"Bad timing. I'll head to the bowsprit and set it off, and let it die down on its own."

Olaf looked uneasy. "Alright. Be careful, okay?"

"Okay," she grumbled, twisting open the door and shrugging off Olaf's arm. "Do you think you could find me some strong aquavit?"

Olaf chuckled. "I think we have some whiskey deep in the hold. Are you trying to stave off pain or get drunk?"

Elsa laughed bitterly. "Why not both?" she half-joked, opening her clothes chest and rummaging through it for some old rags. _Ah ha_.

Olaf nodded, not seeming to get the joke. "I'll be right back," he assured her.

Elsa watched him shut the door with some relief. She immediately stuffed the rags down her pants and settled them around. Like she honestly needed to go through this nonsense every month, especially when she was attracted to the fairer sex and therefore _highly_ unlikely to ever sire a child. She fell back against her bed with grumbled complaints and threw her hand over her eyes.

She was getting _antsy_ too. Dear god. Gods. Which was it? Now she was having a religious crisis because she'd spent a great portion of her life surrounded by people worshipping Nordic warrior-deities. _Ugh._

Elsa rolled onto her side, letting her arms flop on top of one another on the bed. The only woman around was Anna. That was the most strident of issues. She couldn't risk interacting with her any more than she was already. Things had radically changed since she was having a little fun, flirting in the dungeon. Also_,_ they were in the middle of the ocean, so there wasn't any inn she could just walk up to and _stay the night_ at. _And_ she couldn't go to the crew because, obviously, they were men.

A stab of pain washed over Elsa, breaking her from her thoughts, and she nearly squawked. She pulled her knees up into the foetal position. She was sure her bones were disintegrating.

At that very moment, Olaf reappeared. He shut the door gently behind him. "Elsa? I got you the drink."

"Thank you, Olaf," Elsa muttered through gritted teeth. She gestured for it. He handed it over wordlessly.

Elsa groaned, and pushed herself into a sitting position. She noted with dry amusement that it was in a wineskin, and that it was partially empty. She gave Olaf a look as she held it up to her mouth. He grinned sheepishly.

The whiskey burned like fire tearing through Elsa's sinuses. She got through three or four mouthfuls before coughing and spluttering. She was no stranger to spirits, but the burn still got her every time. She wiped her mouth on the back of her glove gently and coughed again.

"How do you drink this so readily?" she asked, steeling herself for another swig.

Olaf shrugged. "It's warm."

This was probably the closest Elsa ever got to feeling fire inside her instead of ice. The ice in question snapped and crackled like static in response to the onslaught of alcohol. It sparked through her nerves, coalescing with and trying to negate the burning fire in her mouth, her throat, her stomach. The effort only served to cause minor hot and cold flushes localised with the drink.

Elsa capped the wineskin and crabwalked backwards until she hit the wall. She let her head fall back onto the wood panelling with a thud.

"Would you like anything else?" Olaf asked.

"No thanks, Olaf. I should be alright for now. Please, keep Anna occupied. Teach her how to navigate, maybe?" Elsa smiled wryly. "Don't you need to clean out your telescope?"

Olaf pulled out the instrument, and gave it a shake. "Nah, I just shake all the little rust flakes into a corner. Then I can see."

Elsa didn't want to argue with his logic. Personally, the constant clouded viewport of his telescope was enough to drive her insane. But it was his problem. So she nodded. "Thanks. Have a nice time without me."

Olaf smiled again. "I will. Get _well_ soon." He winked.

After he'd shut the door, Elsa sighed. She thought that the painful ache in her loins was probably the bane of her existence. She tipped the wineskin back and drank another one, possibly two mouthfuls of whiskey. She was already feeling somewhat warm, and lightheaded. Her ice was slowing, settling down. And her mind was being addled.

_God_, Anna was lovely. Her red-gold hair, when it was illuminated bright flaming red from behind by the sun, looked like a halo of fire. All those little freckles over her cheekbones and nose were like someone had flicked brown paint off a brush and onto her rosy cheeks. She saw the good in everyone, even Elsa. It helped in Elsa's eyes that Anna had sea legs like a natural sailor. She was like the sun, all fire and strength and sass and happiness and kindness. She was like summer. She was like summer to Elsa's cold, indifferent winter.

The realisation made her heart leap, and fall, off a _very_ high cliff. It landed in the ocean of apathy that was drunkenness. Summer and winter, what was she talking about.

Anna was her friend, and one of the first female friends she'd had in... years. A true friend. Not a fleeting partner. Anna made Elsa feel warm, like her _frosty_ exterior – in her impending drunkenness, Elsa giggled at the pun – was melting right off.

Who on earth said that familiarity breeds contempt? Elsa, probably. Becoming familiar with Anna was probably the best soul-searching she'd done in a long time. Possibly her entire life. It was surprisingly satisfying to let go of her hard shell. Surprisingly satisfying to begin to lean on Anna, even the littlest bit. To not kid herself that Anna was causing positive change in her psyche.

This not-kidding-herself was probably ironic, really, she was _fucking_ drunk.

Elsa dragged herself up to her pillow. She swallowed more fire and capped the thing, dropping it off the side of her bed. She threw her arm over her eyes and groaned. The alcohol dulled the pain, both in her heart and in her bones.

xXx

For the rest of the day, time seemed to slow down, and then speed up. Suddenly it was late evening, and Anna was so hungry as to be on the brink of storming down to the kitchens and raiding the food stores. She insistently asked Beathan where he'd found the sweetmeats, to no avail. So she decided to go into the kitchens again.

(In reality, the sweetmeats were stored in the hold at the prow of the ship. Anna had been down there, of course, but she hadn't found the place where they were hidden.)

Nearly half the crew were in the kitchens, eating. The smell of meat was in the air. She never thought she'd say this, but gods, what Anna would do for some fresh leafy salads. She watched the men eat with horrified interest.

"Hey, Anna!"

Olaf's voice rang through the space. Suddenly, there was near silence. All eyes trained on her. Then everybody broke out cheering.

Anna was dumbstruck, and confused as _hell_. Then she remembered that she'd broken Trent's nose, and what Beathan had said would probably happen. It had happened.

As she walked into the room properly, feeling like a proper celebrity, Olaf ran up to meet her. "Beathan told everyone how you punched out Trent! He said it was really assertive of you," he exclaimed as the cheering died down and most people got back to eating.

"Hang on, I'm a little confused," Anna shushed him. "Why is this such a big deal?"

"Trent's the biggest asshole on the entire ship!" Someone nearby interjected.

Olaf nodded in confirmation. "It's a widely accepted fact. But he's never been caught out."

Anna frowned. "Doesn't Elsa exact judgement?"

Olaf's eyes went wide and he fell silent. Everyone nearby also fell silent. People beyond her voice range stopped eating and craned their necks to watch the sudden silent spot in the room.

"Is it... that much of a big deal?" Anna cringed.

"How do you know her name?" Olaf said weakly.

Anna searched through the crowd, raised her hand, and pointed at Trent.

The entire room turned simultaneously.

Beathan spoke up, from where Olaf had run from. "The fucker told Anna everything."

Trent quailed under the intense negative attention, and brought his hand up to cover his nose.

Stephan swatted Trent on the back of the head, hard. His face went smashing into his hands. The shriek of agony brought forth rounds of laughter and jeering from many of the men present. Stephan silently checked for damage to Trent's nose, apparently oblivious to the cacophony of noise.

Anna's face was grim. It never failed to surprise her how utterly, brutally crass _Thunderhead_'s crew could be.

Olaf sighed shakily. "Well, now you know."

"Now I know," Anna chimed. "Why should that change what I think about her, though? And you all! You all respect her, and you know that she's... well... a woman!"

A scrawny boy, probably younger even than Anna, waved his hand to talk. A string of wooden beads clacked on his wrist, and his hands were calloused from rope burn. "You know, we'd all respect her anyway. She's just terrified that we won't. Or that we'd... do worse."

Anna looked utterly oblivious. "What's worse than that?"

"Oh... um... nothing, really, I guess," he stuttered.

"You hesitated," Beathan rumbled.

The boy squeaked. His beads clattered. "No I didn't-! ...Fine, yes I did." He crossed his arms. "I mean..." He made a very recognisable gesture using both his hands.

Anna grimaced.

"Someone tried before," Beathan growled. "She killed him, and disfigured his... body. As a reminder."

Anna grimaced further.

"It was necessary," someone else explained. "Or, as necessary as it had to be. Nobody went near her again." There was a subtle undercurrent of movement in the room as people glanced at two, maybe three men with distaste, and then at Anna herself, as if expecting something.

Anna needed a moment to process this information. This was a much different image of Elsa than she'd known. Maybe Elsa was putting it on, the way Beathan put on his own act? At that exact moment, her stomach growled, very loudly.

A handful of the crew nearby chuckled at her, and invited her to sit. Olaf led her to where he was previously: next to Beathan. The hulking man gently patted her shoulder in greeting, and handed her a lump of bread, enough meat to last her a dinner and a half, and some dried lemon. Anna looked up at him in confusion.

"Eat the fruit," he explained, "Or you'll get sick. It prevents scurvy. It's a horrible disease where your gums go soft and your teeth fall out and your legs go shaky and you slowly die," he added when Anna looked suspicious.

In less than a moment, the entire fruit piece was gone, peel and all. Three people around Anna laughed.

It was a few content minutes of steady eating before they heard the first rumble of thunder. Some men muttered apprehensively. Others looked annoyed. A rare few smiled up at the sky through layers of wooden planks.

Anna waved to catch Olaf's attention. The boy hadn't blinked. "Olaf, do you have an oiled cloak? And one of those hats? I want to go out in the rain again and _not_ get sick this time."

"I'll give you my cloak," Beathan offered, easing himself up and away from the table. "Olaf should have a rain hat."

"I do!" Olaf confirmed. "Wait a minute, we'll be right back!"

Anna waved them goodbye. And then she was alone. It wasn't a bad kind of alone, of course, she was just nervous. She nibbled at her bread, and chewed at the meat pensively.

"Are you okay, darlin'?" the closest man asked Anna, resting his weight on his right arm as it lay on the table.

"Oh! Oh yes, I'm okay," she laughed, turning in her seat to face him. "Thank you."

He smiled, all crooked teeth and young eyes and laugh lines and greying stubble. "That's lovely to hear. You be sure to give 'em hell if they give you hell, okay? Break the _entire crew's_ noses if you have to."

Anna laughed again. "Thank you so much, I'll remember that."

"You know, ah..." The man paused. "You remind me of my daughter," he said bashfully, scratching his chin.

Anna's face lit up. She covered her mouth with her hand. "No way! What's she like?"

The man's smile grew even wider. "Well. She loves being outside. I swear, she absorbs the sun. She loves running in the grass, and climbing trees. She helps her dear mother all the time. She helps everyone. It doesn't matter what they're like, she sees the good in every last person on the face of this earth. But she doesn't take hell from anyone. She's a beautiful flower, but she hides a little angry wasp under her petals."

Rain began to fall, hitting the deck above.

Anna listened intently. "She sounds wonderful," she said at the end. "Do you see her often?"

The man's face fell. "Ah... she was... born out of marriage," he muttered, ashamed. "She's living with her mother."

Anna uttered a small _oh_. She had half a mind to hug him.

The moment was saved – or broken – when Olaf and Beathan both returned. Beathan draped his cloak over Anna's shoulders, and Olaf settled the old hat on Anna's head. There was affectionate laughter when she had to shift the bulky garment around and keep the hat off her eyes at the same time.

She took the rest of her food and hid it in her pockets, waving goodbyes to everyone as she went up above deck again. The rain awaited!

xXx

Anna settled the triangular hat over her face, pulled the cloak around her, and stepped into the rain.

The difference to last time was pleasantly shocking. Instead of being soaked and chilled, Anna found the cloak did a wonderful job of insulating her from the rain outside. The rain falling on the hat trickled out of the corners, leaving her face clear. She carefully wandered the deck, holding onto an array of ropes along the masts and the space between them, put there in case anyone needed to navigate in the weather that so often plagued this particular ship.

Unbeknownst to Anna, Elsa was up on the bowsprit, lost in a world of swirling water and falling rain, and ice high in the sky above the clouds.

The captain held her gloved hands out far into the open space. They soaked up water, keeping her hands deadly cold. Water ran in rivulets down her hair and over her shoulders, soaking into the same off-white shirt she always wore, and the repaired beige leggings, and her rain boots. Elsa revelled in it.

Wind howled through her ears. It sounded like the sky was in torment, to anyone but her. To her, it was an exultation of the air, the biting cold wind chill. She was connected to the wind, she was flying, she was alive. The ice in her veins felt like it was ricocheting down her arms, legs, rooting her to the deck and bridging her to the clouds.

Her hands, she held up in the air. The water around them began to freeze, adding to the teal gloves she constantly wore. High in the sky, fragments of ice did the same.

It was a scant few seconds of negatively-charged ice particles picking up static. She reached, the sky followed, and as the surge began to spill over she brought her hands down.

A bolt of lightning struck the ocean, fifty metres from _Thunderhead_. Lightning crackled in the water, reaching like the roots of a great tree. Thunder boomed like a cannon.

Anna leapt upwards in fright.

Elsa _laughed_. It had been over a year since she got to do things like this. She sorely missed _Istann_, and the ease with which she could channel the storm with her sword – even if it was a purely psychological phenomenon. She would need to get it replaced.

Anna heard something faintly through the rain. Was that laughter? Who was it? The laugh wasn't warranted. Olaf was downstairs. Elsa was cooped up in her room. Surely nobody but her was crazy enough to be outside in this weather.

She had to see for herself.

With sure steps, she made her way to the front of the ship. Her shin-high boots did not slip on the planks. She silently thanked the usefulness of boots.

She could definitely see someone up there, now, as she stood at the stairs to the elevated prow. There was little to no light, so she could barely see their silhouette. She began to step closer, and with each step or two, she could see clearer. The person was slender, indeed. They were not protected from the rain as she was. They had their arms up, waving in broad sweeping movements.

Then their arms dropped, and another bolt of lightning flashed the two in intense light and shadow.

_Elsa_.

Anna was shocked, and mystified, to put it lightly. This woman in front of her, her friend, suddenly didn't feel very human any more. But not in a bad way, not in a way that reduced Elsa to something inhuman – in the sense that it was not a person standing here, but the incarnation of a wild sea storm, the fickle cold winds; the mortal daughter of Njordr and Skadi, who had grappled with mortal men and the vast sapphire ocean and came out the winner, bridling them both for her own.

Against her better judgement, Anna staggered forwards. Up the steps, across the deck. She had no idea what to say.

_Elsa was controlling a thunderstorm right in front of her eyes._

What on _earth_ was she supposed to say?!

The question was answered for Anna when Elsa relaxed, momentarily at ease, and drunk - not only on the rain on her but also alcohol. (She had gone at the whiskey again. Just a little.) The buzz in her system was really very pleasant. Elsa watched the sky, raindrops falling on her face as she turned on the spot. The wind howled, warning. She opened her eyes.

Anna stared.

The temperature dropped.

Anna wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came out. The wind stole the words from her throat. The air hummed with static.

_"Stay away from me!"_ Elsa shouted.

Anna started as if she'd been shocked. Suddenly she found her words back from the wind, Elsa's cry of terror jolting her to action.

"I'm not afraid of you!" Anna called. There was a fire in her.

Anna's words hit home like a bolt to the heart. Elsa staggered back a step, clutching the sturdy wood behind her.

"No," She whispered. "Stay away! You were never meant to see me like this!"

Anna drew a shaky breath. The wind whipped at her, clawing into all the cracks in her clothes and making her cold, cold, cold. "What were you trying to gain, from keeping something like this hidden?" she shouted over the rain, which suddenly was not rain any more, but falling sleet. She stepped closer, so Elsa could not back away further. "Did you think I was going to run away? Across the _water_?" Anna questioned, gesturing into the dark. Sleet landed on her sleeve. She shook it off.

"I'm afraid that you're going to-" Elsa choked up.

"Do what? Treat you like a _monster_?"

"_Yes_!" Elsa cried.

The wind whipped up. Down in the kitchens and the bunks, the crew were getting uneasy. The hull was groaning.

"That's all I've _ever_ been afraid of! Being _inhuman_!"

Anna gripped Elsa's shoulders, wet with rain and ice. The air once again smelled vaguely of something in the guest cabin where she was staying, but the water was washing it away. "Well you're _wrong_!"

Elsa burst past her, stamping along the deck. The momentum carried Anna around in a spin, and she followed. The smell was more distinct, now; it was like metal. Metal, of all things. _But definitely not blood_.

"I don't see why you're running from this! Everyone knows already!" Anna's frustration, her anger was rising. Elsa ducked down the stairs to the main deck, and she followed in the rain.

Elsa desperately tried to block out the sound. A ringing was starting in her ears.

"Everybody knows and they don't care! They _never_ cared!" She wasn't sure if she was talking about the atmokinesis or her gender anymore.

Elsa couldn't hear anything except the ringing that had evolved into roaring and howling. The metallic smell of ozone was thick in the air. Ice was forming from her footsteps and she needed to get away, away, _away_.

Anna took the steps two at a time and landed on the deck. The ice was already melting under the rain.

"You can't treat me like an _idiot_! If you'd told me in the first place I could help you! You can't keep running from this! _What are you so afraid of?!"_ Anna yelled, passing the first mast.

"_ENOUGH_!" Elsa thundered, shoving Anna back into the great wood pole by the shoulders.

Lightning descended like the wrath of God, carving great white scars into the sea.

The silence after the bolt was deafening.

Anna's breathing was shaky and her hat was askew. Sleet passed close to her face, sapping the warmth from her nose and cheeks. Elsa's grip on her shoulders ached, like she'd been holding a block of ice for too long. Her heart was beating so fast and she was so scared she thought she might break apart. It was so cold that her breath came in white clouds of steam.

Elsa trembled. Her grip on Anna's shoulders was absolute, cold and jagged fingers digging into the oiled cloak and Anna's soft skin underneath. Her face was angry and raw and _animal_, and her hair was plastered in little strings to her neck, forehead, temples, and cheeks. "I'm afraid of you," She whispered. Her breath did not curl in wisps. "I'm _afraid_ of you, Firefly, I don't want to get close to you but you're here now and I made a _mistake_. I need to _live_ with you near me all the time. I'm afraid," Elsa despaired, "because you make me feel like I can almost be _normal_. But I'm _not_."

Anna couldn't react to this knowledge. She felt like she shouldn't be privy to it. She shouldn't know any of this. _But it was so important_. The hands on her shoulders were painful now, but she did not feel them. She stared into the barely-visible pair of anguished eyes in front of hers, lit with the barest specks of ice-blue light from her soul within.

"Elsa," she breathed.

It was her second mistake.

Elsa released Anna like she'd been shot. She fell back against the deck, rain soaking her like it hadn't before. Anna staggered away from the mast to get her balance. She stared at Elsa's vague form. There was a beat of silence, and the sleet was suddenly hailstones.

Voices called through the rain, from the stern of _Thunderhead_. They were calling for Anna.

The captain scrambled backwards and disappeared into the dark.

xXx

Anna did not sleep easy that night.

She tossed and turned as _Thunderhead_ rocked in the storm. When she did doze off, it was only to see twisted unrealities of Elsa, broken and trapped in a cage of her own ice, water rising through the floor and ice growing in from the sides and threatening to cut her shoulders and legs and back and arms and then drown her. And then Anna would leap in to protect her, and take her place, and she was impaled by the growing ice, straight through the stomach, the heart, the arms, the neck and hands and legs and eyes—

Anna woke with a strangled cry. She hadn't had nightmares since her parents died.

Waking up now felt like she was going from one nightmare into the other, all rocking boat, and heavy rain, and distant thunder.

Still in the clinging grasp of her nightmare, Anna cried. She cried for her parents, she cried for herself, and she would be kidding herself if she said she wasn't crying for Elsa. She had been crying a lot over the past few weeks. It was unlike her.

She just allowed herself to cry for a while. Tears meant you were alive.

xXx

The storm had not cleared up by morning.

Despite the fact that the hail had reverted into rain, there was still heavy cloud cover, and it lent the world a drudging grey look.

Anna rose from bed with tired eyes and a confused soul. She needed to set a few things straight, one of which was Elsa.

She slowly changed from her pretty green pyjamas and into her day clothes. The pants were baggy. The shirt felt old and stale. She should probably wash them, she thought. If she could get some water from the Stew Room.

Anna took the few steps from her room to Elsa's, and paused at the door. She was apprehensive, so she listened.

There was silence from the other side of the door.

Anna mentally prepared herself for whatever would follow. She knocked.

"Ellis. I need to talk to you."

There was a sharp little gasp from the other side. Good. She was awake. Anna tried the sliding handle. It was locked.

She knocked again, harder. "Ellis," she repeated sternly, "I _need_ to talk to you."

Elsa's reply was muffled. "Go away."

Anna huffed and put her hands on her hips. "No! I'm not going to go away. I'm going to talk to you about this." She tried the door. It was locked. "Let me in!"

"Go away!" Elsa said, just a little louder.

"Fine!" Anna growled. She stormed away. A minute later she was dragging Olaf by the arm down to Elsa's room.

"Unlock her door," Anna commanded.

Olaf looked back and forth between Anna and the door. "Uh..." He began. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Anna gave him a death glare. "I'm going to talk some sense into her. Now, Olaf, please, stop being so terrified of her, and just _unlock the door_. It's all on me if this goes bad."

Olaf hesitated, to mull it over. Then he sighed. "Okay, okay. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Anna rolled her eyes affectionately and stepped aside to let Olaf do his magic. He unlocked it with little difficulty.

Anna rapped her knuckles on the door one last time, _very_ loudly. "This is your last warning! Open the door!"

"I said _go away_!" Elsa shouted. Something collided with the door, and crackled. _Ice_.

"_ELSA_!" Anna thundered, ripping the sliding door open. Olaf shrieked and scampered. "We are going to talk! _Right now_!"

Elsa actually yelped in fright.

Anna took one look at the room. It was coated thinly in frost. She ignored it in favour of eyeballing its creator.

Elsa stood and composed herself into deadly cold imperiousness. "I told you to _leave_," she hissed, the very picture of a wrathful Captain Ellis.

Anna slid the door shut and sighed. "No. I am not leaving. You're being irrational."

"You are my hostage just as sure as I am the captain and I demand that you. Get_. Out_."

"Elsa. Drop the act." Anna deadpanned. "I'm your friend and you know as much."

They stared each other down. Elsa broke eye contact first with a growl of frustration. "Why do you _do_ this to me?!" she exclaimed.

"Because you need it. You can't, and I quote, _do right by me_ if you're not even doing right by _yourself_. It's lying! It's irrational!" Anna said, gesturing into the cold air. "You can't pretend to be something you're not."

"How did you find out?!" Elsa cried.

"Trent," Anna said.

Elsa's eyes narrowed. "I'm going to talk to him. Stay here."

Anna gently took Elsa by the shoulders as she tried to abscond out the door and gently steered her to a chair at the foot of the bed, like Olaf had, once upon a time. "No," she said sternly. "I'm talking to you. Right now. Listen. _Please_."

Elsa stared her down. And then she sighed. Her facade cracked apart like paper-thin ice. "Go on," she said softly.

Anna smiled gently. "Okay. Now this might be a little difficult for you to bear, because it's really big and everything. I'm going to guess that everyone knows you make ice and rain and even lightning?"

"I primarily control ice, but also the weather. When ice crystals get agitated they make lightning," Elsa corrected tiredly.

Anna took it in stride. "Oh. Okay. Well, I'm not sure how to break this to you..." She scratched the back of her neck nervously. "Everybody kind of knows that you're... not a man."

Elsa froze.

"No no no no _no_," she muttered, holding her head in her hands.

"No, don't freak out," Anna rambled, seeing tiny flaky frost crystals beginning to solidify around Elsa's hands and the chair and the floor. "Nobody thinks any less of you for it. Stop freaking out, they're known for a long time. Elsa. _Elsa_. The crew has known that you are a woman for a very long time."

"How did they find out?" Elsa keened. The frost spread faster.

"They interrogated Olaf. The point here is that _they do not care that you are a woman_. They _respect_ you! Has it changed? Has anything _ever_ changed? You're their captain, and you do... whatever it is that makes you a captain, and they _respect_ you for it! Some of them are even scared of you, because they think you're, a... a goddess come to earth!"

Anna paused to tentatively lay a hand on Elsa's. When she did not flinch, Anna took both her hands in her own. Elsa looked so, so worried, and about ready to bolt at any moment.

"Listen to me, okay? Trust me. They played along, pretending to be oblivious to the fact, because they respected you. Or maybe, because they feared the consequences," she added dryly. "But they knew how badly you would react if _you_ found out that _they_ found out. Nothing's changed except for what we know, Elsa."

"Please stop calling me Elsa," she muttered.

"Fine, _Ellis_, I'll allow you that," Anna laughed. "Do you understand? Do you trust me? Do you trust your own men? You made me trust you before, and really, I'm a _really_ reliable person."

Elsa breathed in a slowly, and exhaled it even slower.

Anna was going to be the death of her.

"I trust you, Firefly," she finally promised.

Anna broke into a relieved smile, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. She pulled Elsa forwards into a gentle hug.

A minute of warm embrace later, Elsa's cramps kicked in again. She wheezed, and curled up.

Anna caught her immediately and sat her down on the edge of the bed. "Oh my gosh, what's the matter?" she exclaimed, concerned.

"Cramps," Elsa wheezed, face contorted into a grimace.

After a beat, Anna burst out laughing. Elsa didn't have the heart to swat at her.

Drop by drop, the rain abated.


	10. The Stones

Evan was _not_ amused.

This was all folly, stupid, _stupid_ politics. Nothing was happening. _Nothing_ was being done to search for the princess. Not that they had any chance of managing it now. If something was being done, he thought, he would know about it. He had ways of getting information.

He leant back in his chair, and covered his eyes. He was once again holed up in his office.

There was a polite knock at the door.

"Come in," he said brusquely.

Halvard slipped in and shut the door behind him.

He no longer wore the handsome uniform of the past; he had dirt-brown breeches, a plain shirt, a vest. Stable-boy clothes, marked with dirt. Halvard was not standing proud and tall. He was hunched slightly, and had a protective hand on his right forearm. It was easily attributable to his demotion, and loss of pride.

"What news do you have?" Evan probed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk. Evan _hated_ dirt, and glared at Halvard's clothes as such.

"They located the survivor," Halvard stated. "They're questioning her soon."

"The survivor of _what_?" Evan asked, irritation evident.

"The one who... survived a raid from the storm pirates, sir. She was taken to the conference hall."

Evan's jaw went slack. In a flash he was out from behind his desk and shrugging on his perfect white medical coat. "You're a good man, thank you for your time."

Halvard stepped out of the way as Evan barged past him, and he gripped his forearm nervously.

xXx

In the conference hall, the advisor Kai, the head of the royal guard (incidentally, also called Halvard), an interrogator, and now the doctor Evan, coagulated and sat around the woman, who was at the head of the conference table. She was wiry, and thin, and smelt faintly of damp hay and old beer. Her brunette hair, tied in a loose bun, was greying and her lips were drawn in a thin, grim line. Her face was gaunt and her eyes were tired, like agate gone dull, but twitched around the room like she was waiting for something or someone to leap upon her from the shadows.

The interrogator set a series of sheets straight and poised a quill ready to write.

"Ma'am," he began. His words had a constant rhythm, and were precise and toneless enough to drive anyone nuts. This was _exactly_ why he was hired as interrogator. "We need to ask you a few questions about your memories of the incident where the vessel you were travelling on was raided by a few pirates known to most as the storm pirates after you came back alive and began rumours."

The woman focussed on him. Her focus flicked from one of his eyes to the other. "The pirates? You mean the – the lightning – the rain—"

The interrogator placed a hand on her shoulder gently when she gripped her head in her hands. "Ma'am, we have all the time in the world, we just need you to tell us if you can remember anything about them."

She began to mumble under her breath.

"Please speak up, ma'am," the interrogator requested.

"... and I hid behind a stack of crates so they didn't see me and it worked and the lightning was so _loud,_ and then two of the pirates came past and they said something and they walked down into the ship and there was silence and I stayed there for minutes and minutes and minutes..." she babbled.

The interrogator interrupted her. "Ma'am, if you could remember what they said and say it _slowly_ it would be greatly appreciated."

The woman paused, glanced skittishly at the men present, and licked her lips. She began again. "I think... I think they said..." she trailed off, and her brow furrowed.

Everybody held their breath.

"_Let's... clear this up... before we start going... to Marseilles_," she remembered. "_I don't understand why we have to... come all the way up here...every year. It takes... weeks_. I think that's what they said. I think. I can't remember."

The interrogator scrawled down every word. "Thank you, ma'am."

Kai looked relieved, and hopeful. The captain of the guard bristled. Evan blinked with cold, calculating indifference.

It was a shot in the dark, but it was a risk they'd have to take right now. It was the only lead they had.

xXx

"_They have a lead on Anna?!"_ Kristoff shouted.

Gerda made shushing motions, and tried to get him to sit. "Yes, dear, it's a memory of a conversation overheard by the one survivor. It's hardly concrete, and we have no idea if the pirates are actually going there."

"It's a lead! _Marseilles_! Isn't that in Italy or something?" Kristoff tried to sidle around the portly woman.

"France," Gerda corrected, pushing down on his shoulders so he was forced to sit in the chair. "It's very close to Italy, actually. It was a part of the Roman empire."

"Come on," Kristoff said, gesturing wildly, "even I know how far the Roman Empire stretched."

"Kristoff, even _I_ know that Marseilles is in France," Gerda shot back.

Kristoff groaned and threw his hand over his eyes. But only for a moment, because he leapt forwards and leant his elbows on his knees. "I'm going with the search party that goes to Marseilles."

Gerda tutted at him. "I know you're wanting to dash after Anna, but I'm not going to lose both of my foster children because of some pirates that showed up and wrecked everything." Her voice was pained.

Kristoff sighed, a little embarrassed that Gerda had brought up in a roundabout way the subject of his and Anna's impromptu and unofficial adoption as Kai and Gerda's children after the death of the King and the Queen. (Luckily, the trolls blessed this decision.) "Anna is my closest friend," he pleaded. "I'm the only one who knows how to track her through snow by following the crumbs she leaves from eating cheese and crackers."

That got a chuckle out of Gerda. "And she's like my daughter. I don't want _you_ getting hurt. You get smelly enough what with all the time you spend in the stables with your reindeer friend, I don't need to have you return smelling like the blood of twelve filthy pirates."

Kristoff rolled his eyes. "I bathe every day, and you know it. _You_ force me into the bath. And besides, Sven's not that smelly. He's just a reindeer."

"He rolled in manure once."

"That was _once_!"

"He still did it," Gerda countered. "He had the stuff in his great big mane of fur for weeks, because why else would your hands continue smelling so?"

Kristoff caved, and folded his arms. "Fine. But I'm still going to go find Anna."

Gerda took a long, concentrated look at his face. She finally sighed, and slumped her shoulders. "Oh, Kristoff," she said, tenderly taking both his large hands in her small ones. "I don't want you getting _hurt_."

Kristoff smiled. "Aw, you're going to make me cry. Don't make me cry. Someone needs to look after Anna, and who better than me? Right?"

They both laughed softly, and hugged.

"Oh, I'll miss you, Kristoff," she lamented.

He patted her back. "Don't worry about me, Gerda, I'll be fine. Take care of Arendelle." They released each other from the embrace, and he held her at arm's length. "I'll be back before you know it."

xXx

Anna stayed with Elsa day after day until her monthly half-week of terror passed. True to Anna's word, she referred to Elsa as Ellis, every time she called.

The friendship was helping both of them (Even if Elsa refused to admit it). Anna felt more at home on the ship, and she felt calmer. Elsa became more at ease with herself as Anna encouraged her self-re-evaluation.

Anna ventured out more often than before to talk to the crewmates, and she found that they weren't all mindless outlaws. Outlaws they were, yes, but they were _people_. They had friends, lovers, families. They had nervous tics and stories and favourite outfits and a particular way they did up their hair. Some of them despised Elsa, some of them revered her, and some of them weren't happy with this life but thanked her for giving them _any_ kind of life to live. Some were apathetic, and just went with it.

Anna loved watching the rigging boys (and men) climb up high, nimble and quick, to furl and unfurl the sails as necessary. She wasn't too fond of the gunners, though, whose clothes reeked of sulphur and whose sole job was to man the cannons. Anna liked the cannons in theory. They were slim and accurate. There were heavy lead cannonballs and hollow ones filled with shrapnel and more gunpowder. They made a lot of noise and did a lot of damage. They also stank. She courteously bowed away from more than one visit.

She also cajoled Elsa into using her ice powers inside. It never failed to amaze her. Anna giggled like a child, high-pitched laughter at the snow in her hair and the ice under her feet. Elsa found herself endeared. But, she found, she had to stamp out the warm feelings more and more. They threatened to addle her senses.

Nevertheless, Elsa drew Anna close to her side. They were friends. _Nothing greater_.

One particular day, Anna sauntered straight into Elsa's cabin, past Elsa herself – who was sketching in a book and wearing handsome spectacles – fell on the bed, and mumbled a stream of complaints about _wanting to see the goods_ into Elsa's pillow.

The captain reacted with surprise, mortification, and finally confusion.

"Firefly! You could've _knocked_," she chastised, fully aware that Anna would do no such thing, ever. She placed her glasses at the tableside and closed the book with the pencil sticking out of it. To Anna's side she stepped, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms questioningly.

Anna mumbled something else.

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Please, you're not going to accomplish anything if your words are being swallowed up by the duvet."

Anna shifted herself onto her side as if with great effort. Her fringe was in her eyes. "I've been your hostage for, like, two weeks, and I haven't seen any _pirate treasure_ yet." She made a face and quotation marks with her fingers for emphasis.

Elsa resisted the urge to roll her eyes a second time. Internally, she was quite relieved at Anna's obliviousness to her own phrasing. "There's a reason I haven't let you near it."

"Yes," Anna said sarcastically, "I'm going to stuff all the valuables on this ship down my breeches and escape, leaving to build a new civilisation on the shores of Morocco."

Elsa had to choke back a laugh. "No! No, it's that our livelihood relies on black market exchange of goods and services. Most of the goods are precious stones, due to the fact that they're often more valuable than coins. In effect, they're condensed coin purses."

"Ohhh. Black market. Lots of valuables. Pirate loot. Sounds interesting. But the real question is: Are the gems pretty?" Anna grinned.

"Their beauty pales to the light in my eyes," Elsa said, putting on airs and graces.

Anna snorted in laughter and had to cover her mouth. "They've got to be pretty _dull_ then, am I right?" she teased.

"Oh, you. I've been wounded."

"_Right_ through the heart."

"Absolutely. I tend to hoard them, to be honest. I have a few of my favourite stones in here, would you like to see?"

"Oh. I thought you were talking about hoarded hearts for a second there. Really?" Anna sat upright on the bed, looking hopeful. "I'd love to."

Elsa nodded in affirmation. "Come here."

Anna swung her legs off the bed and followed like an eager pet. "So what kinds of gems have you got?"

Elsa sighed and crouched at her dresser, opening a cabinet below and retrieving a small box. "Some of them are cut. Others are raw. Personally, I prefer the cut ones, but I have plenty of raw gems."

Well, that wasn't a direct answer. But there were easily three handfuls of the shiny rocks in the box, and Anna was quickly distracted. She roved her eyes over them. They were so colourful! ... But also a lot smaller than she was expecting – small, even easily lost. Hardly the palm-sized monsters that she heard outlandish tales of back in Arendelle. Anna reached in and took a little raw one that was barely twice as long as her fingernail, and half as thin. Holding it up, she saw it was clear, with a soft misty look to it. It looked like a chip of ice. The thought made Anna smile. She was relatively unimpressed until she turned it; a flash of vivid azure sparked through the stone.

"Ah! It's _blue_!" she exclaimed.

Elsa smiled. "That's a moonstone. It's from Ceylon."

Anna kept turning the soft, calm, misty stone in her hands, enthralled by the little blue spark that showed up whenever light hit it at a certain angle. She was loath to put it down, but she did – on top of the dresser. She reached for another stone. It was a polished opaque blue rod, dashed with teal and sea green, easily the size and thickness of her thumb. It had little cracks along its surface.

"Turquoise," Elsa explained. "It's passed through three hands before mine. I'm sure it came from Egypt."

Anna placed it next to the moonstone with a little noise of satisfaction, and picked another stone. She appreciated Elsa's commentary. This stone was like honey; it was solid, and light, and rich, luxurious, orange-gold in colour.

"Oh, I know this! This is amber!" Anna exclaimed.

"Correct," Elsa said proudly.

Anna tapped it with her finger gently. It felt like she could mould it if she heated it over the fire; it felt like one of those newfangled plastics. Of course that wouldn't happen, though. It would catch alight.

The next gem had been shaped. It was a dappled green disc of rich, cold stone, and it looked like moss on a forest floor. Anna could put her finger and thumb together in a circle and it would fit its circumference. There was a small hole through the centre.

"And this is..." Anna trailed off, stumped.

"A jade pendant, from China," Elsa recited. "They believe jade brings calm and good luck. Shall we sit down?"

"You really _do_ raid the spice roads," Anna noted.

Elsa rolled her eyes. "These come from trading too, you know. My life does not consist solely of stealing."

They migrated to the edge of the bed. Anna kept snatching new stones to look at, even as they walked.

They continued this guessing game for a while. Elsa had probably everything from glassy black obsidian to spotted rainstone to deep purple amethyst to emerald as green as light shining through large flat leaves, Anna thought. Elsa had tiny yellowy diamonds, too; Anna wasn't very interested in these if she had to be honest to herself. Apart from their wonderful glitter. They did sparkle _wonderfully_.

Anna picked out an entire handful of similarly-shaped blue stones. She took a moment to stare at their infuriating shape, which was caught between triangles and a cube. She counted each face, annoyed. "What are these?" she said, tapping at them.

"Ah," Elsa said, taking them in her hands, all at once, and then two more from the box. She held them all in one glove. "I stole these from another pirate."

Anna's eyebrows went up. "No way."

"Absolutely," Elsa laughed. "We were acquaintances, in the most distant sense of the term. This set was her lucky charm. Her _huit dés_; her _eight dice_. She was French. Look closer; they really are dice."

Anna scrutinised the stones. Indeed, there were little tiny specks picked out of each face. "Was she a gambler?"

"Oh yes," Elsa said dryly. "Ironically, these would chip and wear down if she actually threw them. She swore she'd be after my head if I ever took these, but after I _did_... I heard neither hide nor hair of her again."

"I guess her luck ran out," Anna joked. "You thief. You stole her luck."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say. But look; I have something far more beautiful than blue fluorite." She lifted another small one from the box. It was as large as the top joint of her thumb, and just as slender.

Anna's reaction was immediate. "Oh gods, what is _this_?"

The gem glimmered like rainbow fire, red one way, purple and green and blue and a hint of pink another. Anna was rapt.

"It's an opal," Elsa murmured.

Anna turned the thing back and forth, back and forth. It was like someone had captured the northern lights; had plucked their shimmering curtains out of the sky and laid them down layer upon layer and tied it together and called it a stone.

Rather than look at the colours in the gem, Elsa watched Anna. It was not a conscious decision. She didn't need to be drunk, now, to admit to herself that Anna was a gorgeous young woman. _Friend. Friend. Friend_. The word played over and over like a mantra in her head. She didn't need confirmation that it was true. She was allaying her own fears, and reassuring herself that it was all that was ever going to come of... _this_.

She realised too late that Anna had stopped turning the stone and was staring at her. Elsa started. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"No. But, I guess, right now, these gems really _do_ pale to the light in your eyes," Anna said softly.

A fierce blush fired up in Elsa's cheeks. "Thanks for the compliment, but it's ill-founded," Elsa laughed self-depreciatingly, all jittery with nerves.

"No, really," Anna insisted, squinting. "Your eyes are _really_ blue."

Elsa paused. She set aside the box full of stones and got a hand mirror out of the top drawer of her dresser. Sure enough, her irises were, instead of their usual deep glacier-blue, a shade lighter, more intense, and speckled with tiny points of blue light. She frantically blinked as if to get rid of them, but tiny crystals of frost began to form on her eyelashes.

Anna watched Elsa's eyes and cheeks scrunch up, and she giggled. The blush, and the light, and the frost, only intensified. So did Elsa's mounting frustration.

Elsa put the mirror away and pouted. At least this way she could _pretend_ her eyes were normal while they cooled down. (The irony of the ice pun was not lost on her.)

"Awh, stop being so grumpy," Anna chided. "You look beautiful. No wait, I- I mean," she hastily corrected, gesturing with her arms, "I mean your eyes are nice, you don't have to worry about them. They look lovely. Fine. They look fine."

Elsa wanted to hide her face in her hands. "Thank you," she said humbly.

They smiled at each other.

"Oh," Elsa started. "I need to check with the navigators."

"What for?" Anna asked, concerned.

"To see how much longer the voyage will take. Come with me?"

xXx

The navigators were up behind the wheel. Not that the ship actually needed to be manually steered, when the winds were always favourable and took the ship wherever Elsa decreed. Despite that, _Thunderhead_ had a consensus between navigators and then the entire crew before the course changed even slightly.

Elsa took the stairs to the bridge. Anna was close on her heels, but she took a moment to stare out at the great blue sea and the barest hint of land on the horizon, teasing her, calling her ashore. A gentle, pleasant sea breeze blew over the ship. The sky was clear, and blue, and bright. Anna licked her lips and tasted salt.

When she got to the bridge, Elsa was in conversation with Olaf and two others. Anna called, and waved. They returned the gesture.

"Hi, Anna!" Olaf greeted her. "It's a great day today, isn't it? It's so so bright and cheery. And it's getting really warm too, isn't it? So much nicer than in Norway. For me, at least. I don't know about you." He cringed.

Anna waved it off, momentarily weary. "It's alright. It's like a summer's day."

Olaf nodded, trying to get off the touchy subject quickly. "That's good to hear. Now, when I took directional measurements today it said we were seven degrees too far to the west. It's okay for now, but if we keep going for the next few days, we'll add another twenty miles or so to the trip. Are we going to stop soon? We need to restock food, I think even the carnivores are getting sick of meat and bread," he said.

Elsa frowned. "We'll stop in La Coruña. How long should it take to get there?"

"Three, maybe four days at this rate," one of the other navigators said. They had a handsome face and little stubble, but had a knife with a handle like a wolf sheathed in a holster at their hip. "If we upped the speed from four knots to six knots we could get there faster still. Eziel says we should have enough food to last us until then."

Elsa nodded. "I'm pleased. I hardly thought we had enough food to last us this far. He's done well."

"Where's La Coruña?" Anna asked.

"It's a port on the tip of Spain," the navigator explained. "We have contacts there. Fabian," he muttered, getting the other navigator's attention, "Go tell everyone. Get a vote."

Fabian nodded and walked down the steps and out of sight.

Not a moment later, his voice was ringing along the ship, loud and strong. "Consensus! Change course to La Coruña, aye or no?"

A chorus of _aye_s came back. Fabian jogged to the other half of the ship, and repeated. Again, the crew was affirmative. Not a single _no_. Everyone really _was_ sick of sailing, Anna thought.

It was quiet again when he went below to continue the poll.

"Does he count the replies?" Anna wondered.

"No," Olaf piped up, "He has really good intuition. He guesses the number of people that said aye or no and there's rarely any margin of error."

Anna nodded. "Can he tell the sound apart?"

Olaf's face split into a grin, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! That's right. He's really good at it. But, you know, I don't think he really has to do the guessing thing this time. Everybody's sick of being at sea."

Anna laughed, and the navigator snickered. Elsa smiled.

It was a scant few minutes before Fabian was jogging back. "Resounding yes! As usual, Trent said no."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Shall I?" she asked.

All eyes shifted to Anna subtly.

Elsa rolled her eyes, and lifted them to the air. "She knows," she said simply, sweeping her arms in a great arc over her head from the stern right to the prow.

The wind picked up above, though interestingly it did not blow so strongly over the deck.

"Olaf. See to it that the outpost gets us restocked as quickly as possible. I want that message acted upon," Elsa commanded.

The cabin boy nodded. "Yes sir!"

Anna watched him leave. She breathed in the fresh sea air, hardly noticing the navigators pack up shop, and go back down to the deck, leaving them alone. "So what's waiting for us in La Coruña?"

Elsa hummed. "Oranges."

"Oranges?" Anna scoffed.

"Didn't you say Beathan told you about scurvy?" she raised an eyebrow.

Realisation dawned over Anna. "Ohhh. Are we going to buy dried oranges?"

"Yes, but, we're going to swap nearly half our diet for oranges and do that for three days," Elsa deadpanned.

Anna blinked. "Really? I don't believe you."

"I'm serious," Elsa chuckled. "They get the best oranges in La Coruña; they drive them up from the south. We have most of them fresh, but of course we _will_ stock plenty of dried ones for all our other journeys. We're also going to eat as many fresh vegetables as we can before we have to survive on nothing but meat again."

Anna's mouth watered. Oh gods, she missed vegetables. Ordinarily the concept of wanting vegetables would horrify her. But she had taken vegetables for granted back in Arendelle. With nothing but meat, three kinds of preserved fish including lutefisk, hardtack, lefse, and the occasional sweetmeats in her diet for over two weeks, Anna craved variety.

"I'm going to eat _so_ many oranges," she claimed.

Elsa laughed. "Some of the crew indulge in competitions to see who can eat the most. I think you'd be interested. If you want to know more... talk to Beathan about it."

Anna shook her head. "To be honest, no thanks. But I might want to watch." She gave pause. "Ellis, how did you become captain?"

Elsa hesitated and fiddled with her gloves. "That's a story I'll tell you later, firefly. There are some details in it that I'm not ready to share yet."

Anna nodded. "Okay. That's fine. While I'm on the subject of stories, why do you wear your gloves all the time?"

"Same train of thought, firefly," Elsa warned.

"Oh. Uh... why do you... keep wearing that old hat all the time?" Anna tested the proverbial water, pointing at the garment that was back on Elsa's head.

Elsa reached up and took the plain black adornment off her head. "You mean this?" she chuckled. "Put two and two together. You yourself used one to keep the rain off your face, and so does everyone else. It's the very reason it was designed with these corners. To keep weather out of its wearer's face. Seeing as I create such weather, don't you think it appropriate that I wear one to serve as a subtle reminder that I'm the captain of these _storm pirates_?" she raised an eyebrow and made a lopsided grin.

Anna nodded slowly. "That makes a lot of sense, actually. Wait, hold on," she backpedalled, "how do you know you're called the storm pirates?"

Elsa rolled her eyes. "First of all, it's a fairly obvious tag, and second of all, I've heard you refer to us collectively by the name."

"Ah." Anna looked out over the sea. "Come on, give me a break."

Elsa smiled.

Anna jumped a little when Elsa's hands snaked around her waist, and pulled her back into a possessive hug. "Hey! Don't startle me like that," she laughed, voice bright and clear.

Elsa took a moment to close her eyes, half her face resting in Anna's sun-warmed auburn hair lit bright orange like amber by the sun, and enjoy the physical contact. "You've jumped me plenty of times," she murmured.

Anna scoffed, stomach jumping under Elsa's arms. "Yeah, but finding out you've been making ice and wind and lightning isn't even the littlest bit the same as nearly tickling me in the sides."

Elsa cocked her head to the side. "You're ticklish?" she said devilishly.

"No, I'm not even the littlest bit ticklish," Anna assured her, nodding emphatically.

"Really?" Elsa said slyly, unclasping her arms.

"Oh yes, I'm not ticklish. Don't you believe me or something? I'm not ticklish at ALL—" her voice skipped three octaves and she jumped violently when Elsa jabbed her in the sides.

Elsa crowed in triumph, and assaulted Anna's waist. Anna doubled over, positively shrieking in laughter, and batted at her assailant. Elsa showed no mercy, following Anna when she practically fell to the deck red-faced, and continuing the torture even after she'd curled her knees to her chest, red-faced, and gasped for breath.

"Say mercy," Elsa teased. "Surrender!"

"_Never_," Anna managed to wheeze, swatting Elsa right in the face.

The captain squawked in a very uncouth manner.

Anna rolled over and away, breathing great lungfuls of air, trying to relax the horrible cramping in her abs. "You're cruel!" she accused.

Elsa was back on her in a flash, and resting her fingers threateningly on Anna's sides. "I'll give you a second chance. Surrender and beg for mercy, or I continue," she grinned.

Anna's jaw dropped. "That's not fair!"

Elsa didn't say anything, just dug her fingers in.

Anna's face contorted. "Fine! Because you, the _great_ pirate captain of this ship, are so intent on seeing me give up," she said, laying her arm over her eyes theatrically, "I must cry mercy!"

"_Surrender_, firefly," Elsa insisted.

Anna huffed. "Fine. I _surrender_. Are you happy?"

Elsa grinned so wide, she looked like the cat that ate the canary. Or, the pirate that bested the princess. "Very."

Anna took another big breath when Elsa rolled off her and lay on the deck next to her. "You're a stinker," she grumbled.

Elsa scrunched up her nose when she smiled. "Arr, fear me, for I am the great Captain Ellis."

Anna raised her eyebrows. "No, you're a _stinker_," she corrected, tickling Elsa's sides in a great move of boldness.

Elsa didn't react.

Anna frowned in disbelief. "What? Aren't _you_ ticklish?"

Elsa just lay there when Anna tried in vain to cause a reaction. "No," she laughed, "I'm _actually_ not ticklish."

"That's not fair!" Anna complained, rolling on to her back and crossing her arms.

Elsa shrugged. "Don't tempt me to have another go at you."

Anna turned her head to face Elsa and pouted.

Elsa snickered. "Never trust a pirate."

"I trust _you_, dummy," Anna said.

Elsa privately thought that Stockholm Syndrome wasn't a great indicator of legitimate trust.

Then again, she herself had noted that Anna saw the good in everyone.

She convinced herself that that was the case. She'd have to talk about it later.

For now, she was content to lie with Anna on the deck and enjoy the warm sea breeze. To hell with what the crew thought.


	11. The Raid

The sky was velvety black. Stars covered the vast expanse like fireflies in a field, faintly illuminating _Thunderhead_ as it floated on the sea. Pinpricks of light could be seen on the land. They were the tell-tale signs of civilisation. Most of the crew were asleep, save for the few on lookout. Just because _Thunderhead_ was aligned against the law, did not mean other rogues would not attempt to raid them. Olaf was in his crow's nest, tied down incredibly securely, and fast asleep, slumped against the tip of the centre mast.

Anna lay awake in her bed, arms on top of the covers and hands rested over her sternum, fingers interlaced. The ship rocked from side to side, making the hull creak, deep down beneath the waves. It was a calming noise, and the only sound aside the water lapping against the hull. She used it to count the time.

Anna shifted, and rolled onto her side. Time was something she had a lot of, these days. The days stretched long. They were getting very warm now. The nights were balmy at best, and for someone who had spent her entire life in a climate that permitted snow, it was edging towards uncomfortably summery weather.

Cool nights like this were a blessing. She breathed deeply of the fresh air streaming in via the porthole, and sighed. It was peaceful.

A tiny, refined set of knocks sounded at her door. It was the one that she and Elsa had devised, in case they needed to talk.

"Come in," Anna whispered.

Elsa slipped in and gave a tiny wave. Anna smiled, and returned it.

"You have dimples, you know," Elsa murmured.

Anna's smile widened. "Why are you bringing that up now?" she inquired, propping herself up on her elbow to better converse with her friend.

Elsa shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Firefly, we need to talk."

Anna's smile faltered. "Is there... a problem?"

Elsa hesitated.

"Come on, you can tell me," Anna encouraged her.

The captain sighed, and massaged her temples. "I need to stop talking to you. You're getting Stockholm's Syndrome."

Anna squinted in the dark. "I think I've heard of that before. Care to explain?"

Elsa thought guiltily back to _La Belle et la Bête_. "It's where someone warms up to, and even falls in love with, their captor," she picked her words carefully, clenching her hands around the woollen throw.

A laugh escaped from behind Anna's hands, despite her trying to keep the soft sounds in. "I'm not falling in love with you, dummy," she giggled.

Elsa rolled her eyes. "I never said you were." _I can't fall in love with you because it's self-destructive_. "I mean to say—"

"No, actually, wait a moment," Anna interrupted her. "Which pirate was it that told the kidnapped princess to trust them because they were going to make this acceptable for her?"

The pirate in question had a double take, and looked away, embarrassed by her complete lack of foresight going into this conversation.

Anna sighed, and collected her thoughts. "I hate the fact that you stole me from Arendelle. I _hate_ you for it. Even then, I looked for the good in you, and... you're a pretty good person. For a pirate. You have a good heart, despite everything you do."

Elsa looked pointedly at her. "Firefly-"

"No, don't _firefly_ me, I'm talking. You're a _nice_ person."

Elsa raised her eyebrow. "_Firefly_. You're becoming delusional. I. Am. A. _Criminal_. I kidnap princesses and steal things and make rainstorms and sink ships."

"You also make the perfect snow for snowball fights," Anna teased her.

The horrible criminal threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "Fine! I give up. You think you've seen into exactly who I am?"

Anna was cut off from an undoubtedly sassy reply when Elsa leapt atop her and pinned her into the bed much the same way she had in Arendelle, weeks prior. She _knew_ that Anna remembered the moment, and the horrified intake of breath was the giveaway. A memory of Elsa's own thoughts flashed through her head, but now, she was disgusted by the words, so she blocked them out.

"I am a _predator_," Elsa spat.

Oh boy, was Anna fearless now. She knocked the captain's elbows out so she nearly fell on her face, and shifted up against the headboard. "No, you're an idiot," she corrected. "You refuse to believe that I've actually taken a good look at who you really are."

"_How_?" Elsa hissed, sitting on her heels. "What skill could you possibly use to get into _my_ head?" she tapped her temple with a gloved fingertip.

Anna laid a hand over her own chest. "I trust my heart. You tell a lot more about yourself than you think."

Elsa pouted. Her whole body slumped in indignation. It was the most childish thing Anna had ever seen her do. "I..." she said weakly.

Anna put her hands on Elsa's shoulders and sighed. "I'm treating this like a big adventure, okay? One where I've been taken from home, and it's really dangerous, sure, but it's an adventure nonetheless. I can take care of myself, I'm all grown up now. You, you need to trust me a little more."

Elsa squinted at her. "You're turning out to be the death of me."

"Then kill the old you, Elsa, you needed a reality check."

A little thrill went through the captain. "You called me Elsa," she grumbled.

In reality, she didn't mind at all.

Anna smiled cheekily. "And I'll keep calling you Elsa. You, on the other hand, need to stop calling me firefly and just call me Anna."

"Never, _firefly_."

"Rude!"

They laughed softly, and fell into a comfortable silence.

Eventually, Anna yawned. Her jaw cricked. "How many days until we get to the orange port?" she asked drowsily.

"La Coruña," Elsa corrected. "We should be there by sundown tomorrow."

Anna nodded. "I think I should sleep now."

Elsa climbed off the bed, as silent as the night, and walked to the door. "I won't keep you up any longer then. Sleep well."

Anna settled under the blanket, tucking the covers right to her chin. "Night, Elsa," she murmured.

As she slipped into sleep, she thought she heard Elsa speak.

_Good night, Anna_.

xXx

The next day seemed to pass far too slowly.

It was an incredibly hot day. Anna found herself sweating, and stayed in the lowest hold of the ship, where everything was cold and she could lounge about in peace.

Relative peace, anyway – the water pressure was immense.

The galley, instead, provided a good balance between cool temperatures and lively entertainment.

Men came and went, and she found out a lot about the crew's tradition of the orange-eating competition. The record stood at thirty-two oranges – to Anna's surprise, it was not Beathan who was the record holder, but the cook, Eziel. The outstanding record was half the reason he was appointed as chef. The other half reason was his skill with managing food and improvising recipes, obviously.

Now, Anna looked at the skinny man and wondered how on earth he had managed to fit all that fruit in his stomach.

"Hello, princess. What brings you to the galley?" he watched her from behind the bar, wiping out a tankard with an old cloth. His lips were grim. He smiled with his eyes.

Anna shifted her weight on the barstool, carefully eyeing the Arendelle Royal Guard uniform hanging up on a crude coat hanger behind him, like a spoils of victory. She didn't want to know how it got there. "Boredom," she said. "Elsa's doing whatever it is she does. I can't wait until we get to shore, I'm so sick of being on a ship," she complained, tapping out a tattoo on the bar.

Eziel nodded and hummed in agreement. "I know the feeling. You need to remember that the ground doesn't move, when you're back on solid ground again. It's a strange feeling, where you keep trying to allow for the movement of the boat, and end up tripping on a flight of stairs. Don't say I didn't warn you, okay?" The twinkle in his eye grew stronger.

Anna smiled, a full smile, the polar opposite to Eziel. "Beware the stairs. Sure thing."

Another pirate, a large man, sat on the second barstool to Anna's left, and waved at Eziel to get his attention. "Mind getting me a drink, Shelf?"

Eziel sighed in irritation, eyes once again saying more than the rest of his face. "Heavens above, stop calling me Shelf," he chastised, turning around for the mead regardless.

Anna watched the other pirate, and gave a nervous little wave. He responded in kind. It was sort of endearing.

"Do people call you _Shelf_?" she asked Eziel incredulously.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't call me that, please," he warned Anna as he slid the mead across the bar to the sailor. "My mother christened me Ezio, but after I killed someone by feeding them potato leaves, I had to change my name, and myself. Eziel is Latin for _renovated_. I was, in a way, renovated. So some people call me Shelf, because a clever fellow thought that shelves were involved in renovations."

Anna nearly laughed. But she didn't. "That's... interesting. Potato leaves, though?"

"Don't eat them," Eziel deadpanned. "I'm learned in poisons and cooking. Ellis brought me aboard because of it. Now I'm the cook."

"Wait – _poisons_?"

"Yes, princess, that's what I said. Would you like some mead, while you're here? Wine maybe? Strong spirits?" Eziel put his cloth on the bench and leant on it, looking at her expectantly.

Anna looked taken aback. "Alc- no thanks," she declined. _Poisons_. Heavens above.

Eziel nodded and got back to cleaning out tankards. "Maybe one day."

Anna smiled. "Maybe."

There was a moment of silence.

Faint voices filtered down from above. They sounded urgent.

A horn blew in the distance.

The two men reacted like they'd been shot. "Stay out of sight, princess," Eziel ordered as he shoved both tankard and cloth under the bar, ran out around it and went up the stairs to the deck. The sailor on the bench left his drink alone, still half-full, and followed suit.

Voices continued to filter down – shouts, now – and then Anna heard the pained cries.

Shivers of fear started in her bones. She scoured the room. There was a short staff in the corner, next to a stool and a battered accordion. She zipped over and hefted it in her hands. It was hardwood: dense, powerful, and dangerous if used properly.

The floor jumped under Anna's feet, and Thunderhead groaned in protest to the other ship that had just shuddered past it.

Anna ran to the doorway to the galley. She stared up the stairs, and the sight that greeted her was the occasional flash of someone running by. She could hear fighting. What? _What was happening?_

At that exact moment, Elsa barrelled down the stairs in her war outfit, noticed and recognised Anna and grabbed her wrist in the same split second, and pulled her deep into the galley. Anna held onto the hardwood staff for dear life.

"_Elsa_? What's going on?!"

Elsa pushed Anna down into a hiding place behind sacks of potatoes and the barrel of mead. "Stay here, there's another ship, they raised a peace flag but then opened fire, I need you to stay here, stay here and be _safe_, you can't go out there now because you'll get hurt," Elsa babbled, patting down Anna's hair and shoulders frantically. "I'm going to take care of it. Stay _safe_ for me, Firefly, _please_."

Anna looked at Elsa like she was insane. "You think I'm going to stay _here_?"

"Yes, I _know_ you're going to stay here, because they will steal you from me and kill you or _worse_."

Realisation dawned on Anna, and the terror on her face made her look a lot more child-like because of it.

The captain cupped Anna's face in her shaking, teal-gloved hands. "I _need_ you to stay safe. Stay here. I'll be back soon, don't move, don't let them see you."

Anna nodded. "Okay. Okay. Don't get hurt," she pleaded, gripping her friend's shoulders.

Elsa smiled at her and squeezed her jaw possessively. "I won't," she promised, and then she was gone like the wind.

Anna curled up as small as she possibly could, hardwood staff in her lap, and covered her ears with her hands. She was fearful of the commotion outside, but she was also high on adrenaline, and her heart was pounding in her chest.

She prayed for it to end.

xXx

Elsa arrived back on the deck and drew two throwing knives from the interior of her tailcoat. They went between her fingers, reached subzero temperatures, and in scant seconds Elsa was throwing punches tinged with icy metal faster than most in the fight could react.

The other ship had been in sight for a while, but it was only recently that they had raised a white signal flag. _Thunderhead_ raised one in kind, and they had drawn close, to converse.

Then the first archer on the other ship loosed a shot.

_Thunderhead_'s crew, taken off guard, barely had time to pull out hidden weapons and anything that could serve as a shield and grab the few bows available to act on the defensive. Elsa had run into her cabin and pulled out her tailcoat, donned it, and immediately scoured the ship for her firefly.

Now she was breaking the nose of someone who'd found the courage to jump onto _Thunderhead_ with a perfectly aimed and incredibly strong punch and leaping across the gap between ships to put an end to this _bullshit_.

Beathan had found time to get to his possessions and clasp on a protective, heavy cloak for his back, a helmet that had more jaw-and-forehead guard than anything else on the front of his head, and terrible studded metal gauntlets with clawed fingertips. He now wreaked havoc on _Thunderhead_'s deck. The men who'd boarded _Thunderhead_ simply tried to avoid him, but the effort served little good, and the hulking bruiser left a trail of physical damage wherever he went.

Elsa nimbly dodged a sword strike, ducked, and swept the legs out from under her attacker. He landed hard on his tailbone, and she stole his blade. It was forged of steel, clumsy to wield, and far heavier than _Istann_. She couldn't freeze it; it would become brittle rather than strong.

Elsa hefted it in front of her and ran to the bridge. Its owner's cry of outrage was lost on her.

A hop, a skip and a kick to the groin later, Elsa hammered her elbow into the back of the other captain's neck. He had been standing on the sidelines, watching his men fight.

He stumbled forwards with an outraged yelp and spun around with a furious scowl on his face, blade at the ready. He had a tiny moustache, and it bristled.

"Call off the attack, Simón!" Elsa threatened, pointing the stolen sword at him. Her arm was already beginning to ache from having to hold such a heavy sword. She was _very_ out of practice.

Simón scoffed. "Give me a reason!"

Elsa's face contorted, and she leapt forwards to hold her blade against his neck.

He effortlessly parried the attack and twisted his rapier so his hilt caught in the other and pulled it out of Elsa's hand, disarming her and making her stumble from the sudden loss of weight.

"My dear! You're out of practice," Simón cackled, holding his rapier in front of him and backing Elsa up against the aft of the ship. She had nowhere to go, as his sword would reach her before she could get out. The water slapped against the sides of the ship, down at the waterline.

"Surrender, Ellis!" he shouted.

Elsa snarled at him. "Never, you lying _filth_," she spat. "Call off the attack! I'll _kill_ you for this!"

"Such language," Simón crooned. "Shame I'll have to kill you first then."

Elsa steeled herself.

xXx

Anna was still curled up underneath the barrel, clutching the short staff like a lifeline.

When someone tumbled down the stairs to the galley in a great show of ironic contrast to Eziel's earlier warning and swore up a storm, she stopped breathing. She couldn't tell who it was, and she prayed they would leave.

The man in question pulled himself up with one of the benches, and coughed heavily. He'd been tripped up and pushed down the stairs by Olaf, and now he just wanted to stay out of the fight, in a selfish move not endorsed by his captain.

The galley. What a place to stay! He tramped to the bar, intent on getting a drink. No doubt they'd win; he just had to wait it out. What better way to do it than with a drink? And some bastard left his on the bench here, _perfect_.

Anna struggled to keep her breathing steady. The arrogant sailor was speaking aloud, in mutters under his breath. She could hear every word he was saying, and she feared her pounding heartbeat would give her away.

It was not her breathing, but a sneeze from all the dust in the potato sacks, that alerted him.

His ears pricked up.

"Who's there?" he growled.

Anna didn't even _breathe_.

"Show yourself before I _make_ you show yourself," he threatened, stalking around to where Anna was hidden.

The moment he sighted Anna, his whole face twisted in surprise, alarm, and curiosity.

Anna lashed out at the man with the hardwood staff, adrenaline driving every movement, whacking at his head and shoulders. The man roared in pain, wrested the staff away from her, and threw it behind him. He grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and dragged her up kicking and screaming, clawing and biting at whatever she could reach.

Anna caught him between the legs with her foot, but she was the one who yelped in pain – he had a metal groin guard.

Now, he thought, it _did_ pay to be prepared. His friend just lost a _massive_ bet.

"Who're you?" he demanded.

"I'm going to make you regret this!" Anna shouted, gripping his wrist with both hands and twisting in the opposite direction enough to make a burn.

The man growled, unfazed, and shook her. "Your _name_, wench! Why are you on this _ship_?"

"I'm going to _kill_ you!" Anna screeched, addled by rage and the screaming, pounding adrenaline forcing stars and flashes of colour into the back of her eyes.

The man brought her close to his face and shook her like a dog. "I bet you're a hostage," he mused. "Ellis never takes women on board as part of his crew. I want to know-"

He was cut off from saying _why_ when Olaf slammed into him like an avalanche and made him lose his grip on Anna.

"_DON'T TOUCH HER_!" the cabin boy thundered, slamming his fists hysterically into the other man's face and punching and kicking and grappling with him when he rose, enraged, and fought back.

Anna yelled in alarm, body screaming at her to _run while you have the chance_.

"Anna!" Olaf shouted, wresting the man's arm away from his neck, "Get out of here!"

The girl stood there, rooted to the spot, watching with screaming mind the other man overpower Olaf and land a solid punch to the boy's sternum.

"_Anna_!" Olaf repeated, half-winded, "because I _love_ you, I insist you _RUN_! I can take care of this!"

Anna backed away, grabbed her hardwood staff, and scampered.

The man tried to punch Olaf in the sternum again and follow her, but Olaf ducked out of the way and elbowed him, over and over and over, keeping him down in the galley while she escaped.

Anna gunned out of the galley and burst onto the deck.

Lightning struck the other ship the moment her foot touched _Thunderhead_'s sun-scorched beams.

xXx

Simón stared at the knife embedded in his hand, and the blood trickling down his wrist, and then at Elsa, incredulously.

Elsa's wicked, jagged grin was the only indicator that she'd thrown it.

The rapier slipped from its owner's hand and clattered against the deck. Elsa picked it up, and pressed its tip just over the man's heart.

"Call off the attack," she said quietly, "before I run you through. And then maybe I will not tell Corrado."

The man pulled the knife out of his hand, oblivious to the fact that the blood ran free now that it wasn't held in check by the frosty blade. "I'll never call off the attack," he spat. "You're a demon and you, and your entire crew, deserve to _die_."

Elsa blinked lazily.

Lightning and ice crackled along the man's rapier. She did not revel in the fear in his eyes. She plunged Simón's brittle blade into his own chest and, twisting it, snapped it into shards from the torque. Power surged from the core of her being and as if she had incited the blessing of Thor with the break, a bolt descended from the empty blue sky and struck her assaulter atop the crown.

The dead man fell back like a mannequin, a shocked corpse, ice and metal embedded in his chest, lightning scars cascading down his entire body from where he'd been struck, and ice fanning along his skin outwards from his flash-frozen heart in geometric, flowery fractals. He smelled like burnt meat.

The fighting stilled. The fallen force, stunned by the force of nature, began their surrender and retreat.

Elsa stood there, breathing heavily. She had no need to chase this up any more.

She was tired.

xXx

Anna recovered first. She shouted into the open air to anyone who was listening.

"Olaf's in trouble! In the galley!"

It was hardly a second before someone stormed past her and down the steps.

"Nobody gets their filthy fucking hands on sticklimbs except me!" Trent shouted, disappearing into the room.

Anna stood there, stupefied, as there was a scuffle and a lot of shouting and yelling and swearing. Stephan stood next to her and crossed his arms.

"He does this a lot," he explained. "_The enemy of my enemy is my friend_, apparently."

Trent finally came out, dragging the other man with his arm wrapped around his neck, and a knife at his throat.

The cabin boy was behind him, limping, and looking _so_ relieved.

"_Olaf_!"

Anna ran up to him and gave him a tender hug. He returned it, resting his head on top of hers gently. "I'm okay, Anna," he assured her. "I'm just going to have a lot of bruises. I'll be okay."

Anna made a sad noise in protest and nuzzled into his collarbones. "Thank you so, _so_ much. But oh, you're hurt," she cooed, patting his face.

He shied away. "Ah, easy on the cheeks," he tutted. "I'm going to get a black eye later."

Anna laughed softly and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. "Let Gunther take care of that. You're amazing."

He kissed the crown of her head in return. "Thanks, Anna, you're really amazing too."

Elsa returned then, weary in her gait. "Firefly, are you alright?" she asked, concerned, placing a tender hand on Anna's shoulder and squeezing.

The princess whipped around and wrapped the captain up in a hug, making her jump in surprise. "Elsa, you're okay!" she cried joyously into the tailcoat.

Elsa had no idea what to do with this outburst, so she went about burying the – extremely prominent, oh gods when did that happen – warm and tender feelings of care.

"Ah... Firefly, I told you I'd be fine," she chuckled. "But please, remember, you need to call me Ellis around here."

Anna broke away just enough to stare at her with wide, pleading eyes. Elsa ignored the puppy-dog look and doted upon Olaf instead, with Anna still clinging to her front like a large, warm limpet.

"What happened?" she asked, touching his temple, his shoulder, and frowning at the damage.

"I beat this guy down into the galley, and I had to leave him a bit to deal with another guy who'd jumped across, but then I heard shouting from in there and ran down and had to beat the first guy away from Anna," Olaf explained, counting off the events on his fingers. "I think he corked me in the thigh and I'm probably going to get a black eye, but I'm fine otherwise." He giggled. "He bashed me in the chest. I bashed him in the stomach."

Elsa smiled gently at him. "You did well. I'm proud of you." She took a moment to look around, and seeing Gunther already helping to get the few wounded down to the galley (which also served as a makeshift hospital when absolutely necessary), she tugged at Anna's hands. The princess was still stuck to Elsa, much to her chagrin.

"Can I talk to you, please?" she asked, somewhat skittishly.

Anna blinked. "Yeah. Sure. What's the problem?"

Elsa bit her lip nervously. "We'll talk in my cabin. Olaf, help Gunther, if you can. Make sure Beathan is okay."

"Sure thing!" He nodded, and made a faux salute. When he walked away, his limp wasn't quite so prominent as before.

Elsa gently took Anna's hand and led her away.

"Hey, what are you going to talk to me about?" Anna asked when they'd crossed most of the deck, watching the people that they passed.

"Politics," Elsa replied curiously.

When they made it to the captain's cabin Elsa locked the door behind her. Anna leapt onto the bed immediately, and settled comfortably in a little nest of the covers. She watched Elsa begin to pace on the floor, her boots clicking mutedly on the wooden floor.

"So what are you going to talk about?" she asked. "Not the politics of why you can't interact with me?" she added, as a joke.

Elsa composed herself for a moment, and continued to pace while she spoke.

"Actually, the opposite. We're going to land somewhere that has a potential for others migrating to the _School_ to be there also. It's a one in a million occurrence to come across another ship, really, but Simón owned this one in a million, and—"

"The guy who just attacked us?"

"Yes. He happened to have a grudge against me. I... settled that. I can't risk anyone else trying to take you. It nearly happened just now," Elsa growled. "I can't let that occur again. So for purposes of your own safety, I need to keep you close to me." _As long as I don't form an attachment_.

Anna nodded. "Uh-huh. You keep me pretty close already, you know."

Elsa stopped pacing, and breathed carefully. "Yes, but while we're in the presence of other outlaws such as myself, there are times I... may need to..."

She paused, and bit her lip. Her entire being screamed against saying this.

"... I may need to pretend that you're my lover."

Anna had a double take, like a record that was scratched. "Wait, _what_?"

"You heard me," Elsa said quickly. "It's all for show; there are certain situations where we may need to hold a _facade,_ and it's the best way I can protect you. I don't feel romantic attachment to you, and I never will, so don't fret."

_That's likely to turn out a lie, you idiot._

_**Shut up!**_

Anna settled down again, despite the blush on her cheeks. "Oh yeah, you're _Ellis_ to everyone else. Awh, I'm glad to hear you like me enough to consider me for the part," she teased.

_Friend, friend, friend, friend, friend, friend, friend, friend_

Elsa chuckled, and clasped her hands tightly together at her front. "To La Coruña, aye?"

"To the orange port," Anna agreed. "Should I help with first aid before we land?"

Elsa nodded her agreement. "If you want to. Gunther appreciates any help he can get. Come with, my lady?" she held out her hand, delicately. Anna took it, and clasped her hand strong. The glove was soft.

"Aye," Anna joked, grinning from ear to ear.

They docked mere hours later, after one of the most beautiful sunsets Anna had seen in all her time on _Thunderhead_.

She missed the northern lights.


	12. The Ransom

Kristoff gripped the handrail so hard his knuckles turned white, leaning over the edge of the ship _Valkyrie_ to puke into the sunset-orange ocean.

Seasickness had hit him hard. Even on the first day, he'd felt nauseous. Now, about a week into the trip, he was plagued with it.

Hardly a few metres away, Evan had the same problem. The sea was trying to dissuade him, it almost seemed.

"I'd wager this sickness is from the sea air," the doctor muttered to himself, face pale, grip on the railing just as strong as Kristoff's.

"That's nonsense," Kristoff replied testily, even though the statement was neither a question nor aimed at him. "I used to get sick like this all the time when I rode Sven when I was little. It's all from movement." He paused to shudder, stomach growling to the point of pain. "The sea air _helps_. I thought you were a doctor?"

Evan glared at him. "Of course I am a doctor, you –" He inhaled sharply, biting back an insult and the contents of his stomach. "—but I was only thinking of possible reasons to this unpleasant happening, and I happened to speak out loud. Give me some credit."

Kristoff raised his brows as Evan leant over the side of the ship and puked, disbelieving of the claim. "Fine. Just don't come running to me wanting to know just how to split a block of ice into something manageable."

Evan squinted at him, displeased, and wiped his mouth on a handkerchief. What the _hell_ did that have to do with anything.

"How much longer is it until we get to the France port?" Kristoff was forced to ask, thoroughly annoyed with everything around him and needing to know when it would end.

"_Marseilles_. Three or four weeks," Evan guessed, grip on the wood so strong that splinters of wood were liable to fly like sparks, should it prove to splinter; though it didn't, much to the soundness of the ship. "Probably five."

Kristoff frowned. "I thought they said three," he groaned. "I hope it's only three. How come Sven isn't getting sick?" he whined.

Evan did not like the smelly, loud, impolite, mannerless animal that had been allowed on the ship. He didn't like its reindeer pet either, which had much the same characteristics, six times the mass, and a need to be coddled. All in all, the duo was the antithesis and bane of the doctor's seafaring existence.

"Magic, maybe. You never know," he grumbled with an undertone of sarcasm. "I heard the gargoyles at Notre Dame fly about in the bell tower at midnight. Perhaps _Sven_ became animate from a pile of straw, sticks and topsoil, and thus doesn't _get_ sick."

Kristoff glared at him, unwilling to speak further.

Evan gave him a malicious side-eye, somewhat sullied by his green-y face and pervasive sickness.

They stood, together in proximity and ailment only, as _Valkyrie_ sailed on.

xXx

At this moment, _Thunderhead_ was preparing to dock in La Coruña.

Anna clamoured to get ashore. She couldn't wait to set foot on solid ground again, after _weeks_ of being at sea. It felt like an eternity since she was at Arendelle. She bounced on the balls of her feet as if dancing on hot coals, hopping from foot to foot next to Olaf and Elsa. The latter was about ready to physically restrain the overexcited girl from bursting off the deck.

The captain laid a hand on Anna's shoulder. "Remember what I told you earlier," she muttered.

Anna stopped bouncing. She smiled at Elsa, a great big grin that couldn't be stopped by anything. "Yes, I know! I just – _land_!" she tried to explain, gesturing at the docks.

Olaf was happy about it, but it was Anna's excitement that really fuelled his own. "I know, right? Warm baths and good food and oranges! I _love_ oranges!" He threw his hands into the air. "I probably need to help with the docking now, though," he noted with disappointment, seeing men drag ropes and things to the side of the ship. "I'll be right back!" he called, already leaving to help the crew.

A minute later, _Thunderhead_ hit the pier with a gentle bump. The crew threw great ropes across, and the ship was lashed on.

Olaf assisted with the lowering of the gangplank. Men on the pier also helped settle it, and when it was down, everyone began to leave the ship.

Anna grabbed Elsa's wrist and dragged her down the gangplank. Elsa shouted in protest, but Anna did not heed it, and the moment her feet touched the pier, the princess crowed in happiness.

She released the captain's hand at last and breathed deep of the hot air. She stretched her arms out wide, and curled her toes in her boots. Looking along the pier, she saw a well-developed city, sprawling up the side of the low rise of the hills behind.

Elsa brushed off her lapels – not that it was necessary – and watched Anna with amusement. She faced the crew and cleared her throat.

"Gentlemen!" she called. The men began to turn and listen in as she spoke. "You can rest tonight, in beds of your choice. You all deserve it. We'll begin _Thunderhead_'s restocking tomorrow morning, and finish up before our eating contest at midday." She raised her voice even louder. "Aye or no?"

A great cheering chorus of _ayes_ came back.

xXx

"Oh my gosh, this is so _weird_."

Elsa linked her arm through Anna's for assurance as the latter swayed from side to side walking along a side street, lined with cobblestones. Elsa, of course, had adapted like second nature. She thought it was endearing to see her friend try to manage the same thing she had had so much trouble with, once upon a time. Shops and establishments lined the street, and many people milled about. Delicious smells wafted from a restaurant they passed where civilians were eating dinner. Sea birds called to the air, and some gulls were trying to beg for scraps.

"Don't worry yourself, Firefly, you'll get used to it in no time," Elsa soothed her. "Hey, while we're walking, here's a bit of trivia. Did you know that nobody knows the origin of the word _Coruña_?"

Anna raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"That's right. It's just a place name. And _La_ is a Spanish-endemic prefix. By most accounts, this place is known as _The Groyne_, but I like to use its traditional name out of courtesy. Everyone knows what I mean, so it's never a problem."

Anna took a few good, sure steps. "That's kind of interesting. I'm not actually sure where Arendelle got its name. I was never interested in…"

"Linguistics?" Elsa offered.

"Yeah, that's it. Never really liked it, no way," Anna confirmed, watching a happy couple holding hands at a café. "And I was bad at it, too. I totally botched Latin, and French, it was all, _yeesh_. I'm pretty good at riding horses, though. By the way, where are we going?"

Elsa looked around, and promptly steered Anna down a lane, lit by few lamps. "We're heading to my favourite low-brow hotel in this city. It's very quaint, and draws little attention to me." She lowered her voice as they passed a happy family, and then a dog. "I can't really be going to the most expensive one around, can I? I'll be incarcerated."

Anna gave her a look that said _please explain_, and nearly-but-not-quite messed up a step. She had her wits about her, now.

Elsa watched her for a moment. "I'll be jailed," she explained, facing forwards again and leading Anna with a gentle touch to her elbow.

"Oh," Anna muttered, opting to focus on walking.

It happened that the turn into the lane was a shortcut to the next big street over. The two women crossed the mildly-trafficked road and went down another side street, and entered the _Pintail and Mallard_. The hotel's sign, decorated with one pretty little seasonal duck perched next to an emerald-headed one, shifted in the faint coastal breeze that ran down the lane.

Inside, it was just as quaint as Elsa had said. A couple of waiting tables stood opposite to the information desk on the right. Everything was decorated with springtime flowers. Amateur paintings of birds and landscapes hung on the walls; ones that had been done by the owner themself. Anna took it all in with delight while Elsa went to the counter and put on her masculine airs.

"Do you have a room for two available overnight?" Elsa asked the receptionist in perfect Spanish.

The receptionist was as simply dressed and tawny-coloured as one of the female ducks. She glanced at Anna, as if she knew what their business here was. "Ah, I'm sure I've got a room for you two. Let me check, please," she replied, turning some pages of a large accounting book.

Anna came to stand next to Elsa. She slipped her hand into the captain's, and Elsa looked at her in surprise, a little half-smile gracing her face.

The receptionist snuck a glance up at them from under her eyelashes and stifled a smile. "Ah, we do have a room for two," she said, catching Elsa's attention again. "It's upstairs, third door on the right. Here's your key," she said, sliding one over the counter, "And that will be seventy reals, for the both of you, for one night."

Elsa raised her eyebrow. The price was usually fifty a head. She retrieved the sum from her hidden coin pouch – after all, it would have been folly to leave _Thunderhead_ without any appropriate currency – and paid without comment. Better to take advantage of the low price while that lady thought they were going to have sex. "Thank you. We'll settle in."

"I hope you enjoy your stay," the receptionist said playfully, smiling at both of them, as Elsa tugged Anna to the stairwell. Anna waved goodbye, and nearly tripped on the stairs.

The upstairs was just as prettily decorated as the foyer. Anna took it all in while Elsa unlocked their room and sauntered in.

"Are you coming, Firefly?" she asked, smirk evident in her voice when Anna continued to look around even after Elsa had crossed the threshold.

Anna turned and stared at her. "Oh! Yeah, pfftch, of course I'm coming. Here we go, look at me, walking into the room. It's lovely in here, wow," she noted. She immediately sprawled over the double bed and rolled around on it, making an absolute mess of the covers.

Elsa had half a mind to ask the receptionist for a room with single beds, now, but that would be a stupid decision, and only cause trouble. She lamented the lengths she'd have to damage her ego to keep the naïve princess out of harm's way.

The captain hesitated, fiddled with her gloves, and swallowed thickly. "Firefly," she said slowly, "I'm going to need to post something. Could you stay here while I do that?"

The girl sat up, reading Elsa's nervous voice like an open book.

"You're going to write the ransom, aren't you?" she asked, hitting the nail on the head.

A wave of guilt and shame washed over the captain.

"I _am_ going ahead with it, you know," Elsa went on. "I've already written it out. I only need to send it north to Arendelle."

Anna drew her eyebrows together, and pursed her lips. "How much do you want for me?"

Suddenly, Elsa couldn't make eye contact.

"… I'd rather not say," she muttered.

A flicker of hurt passed over Anna's face.

"I'm not going to stop you," Anna dismissed, lying down on the covers and rolling away from Elsa into the foetal position, effectively blocking her out. "Excuse me for a minute."

Elsa could practically hear her own heart creaking under the stress of it all.

She left the room and shut the door to retrieve the letter of ransom from her cabin.

xXx

Elsa gripped her writing desk and trembled under the force of keeping her heart at bay.

There in front of her, she'd laid out the letter, demanding payment of a preposterous sum; she'd laid out a small rectangle of fabric cut from the hem of Anna's night dress, a sample decorated with gorgeous rosemaling; a lock of Anna's fiery auburn hair, tied with twine, cut while she was asleep; and a drawing, a quick portrait of the girl, done so carefully and with tender strokes, on the day that she had run in and asked after Elsa's collection of precious and semi-precious stones.

Frost crept out from her fingers. How _dare_ she put a price on such a pure soul.

Elsa gasped at the offending ice and picked up the items before she damaged them.

She opted to not think at all as she folded the letter and drawing with the proof within, and sealed it in an envelope with a hot dab of wax and the press of a golden franc.

Elsa slipped the letter into the mail-to-be-sent at the post office, right past the collector. They didn't notice. She always was good with her hands. With luck, it would only be checked over at Arendelle's gates themselves, and by then it would be too late to trace back to La Coruña. All Elsa had left for the law was a pointer to a particular post box in Marseilles.

xXx

Elsa slipped back into the hotel room to see Anna sound asleep in the position she had left her in. Late evening light, the last rays of the dying sun, managed to filter in through the window with curtains thrown wide, hitting the floor before it could reach the bed, and the princess.

Elsa's heart beat dully.

She trod around the bed without a sound and stood in the light spilled on the floor. She lifted Anna's fringe out of the way of her eyes.

Anna had been crying. Her eyelids were puffy and her nose was still red. The pillow was wet under her temple.

Elsa sighed, and left. She needed a meal that wasn't unidentifiable jerky and stale hardtack.

xXx

_Hey, sleepy head, you're going to miss out._

_Firefly, wake up._

The words crept into Anna's resting mind. The gentle hand on her shoulder further dragged her out of sleep. She woke, and blinked in the dim light. Light peeped into the room; reflected off the surface of the waxing moon, and from the warm gas streetlights lining the road below. Elsa was sitting next to her. She held a parcel wrapped in paper.

"You were asleep, so I bought you dinner," Elsa murmured.

Something bitter and dark coiled in Anna's gut. She willed it away.

Anna rubbed her eyes and pushed herself up. "That's so sweet of you," she thanked. "What did you buy?"

Elsa unwrapped the paper with delight. "_Empanadas_. Here, try one. It's filled with fish." She held out one of the palm-sized pastries to Anna. It was still warm, freshly cooked – it smelled _delicious_. Anna's stomach growled, hungry, like Elsa, for something other than the bland diet they had been on for the past few weeks.

Anna took the food, had a moment to breathe in the amazing scent, and bit into it with astounding vigour. Warm flavour burst across her tongue, and she moaned in appreciation. "It's been so long since I've had good food," she practically whimpered, stuffing it into her face and chewing whole-heartedly.

Elsa fought a valiant, losing battle with the blush skyrocketing up her neck and ears from the sounds Anna uttered. "You discredit Eziel," she managed to say, trying to win back her dignity.

Anna hummed, insulted, and shook her head. She swallowed. "No I'm not! I'm just so sick of salty meat and bread day after day. This is _amazing_!"

A sigh passed through Elsa's lips, all the while as she willed her heartbeat to calm. "I'm glad you like it. Would you care for pork?"

It turned out that Elsa had bought more than just fish and pork empanadas: fresh bread, cheese, hot potatoes, and one ripe tomato for each of them had been acquired _primarily_ within the bounds of the law from the shops and stalls in the surrounds.

When they finished their simple dinner, Anna rested her head in the crook of Elsa's neck. "Thanks for the food," she purred. If she had a cat's tail, it would be flicking in contentment.

Elsa's breath caught in her throat. The little tiny ember of affection in her heart flared sharply in response to the affection Anna was giving her.

It felt... nice.

She took Anna's hand in her own, and stroked the back of her hand with her thumb.

Anna looked down at the feel of fabric scraping over her skin.

"Do you _ever_ take those gloves off?" she asked.

Elsa paused. "No."

Anna wrinkled her nose. "Not even to wash them?"

Elsa puffed a short breath out of her nose. "Of course I wash them."

What did she do, force ice through them to get the dirt out? Or just wash the gloves and her hands at the same time? No, that was ridiculous. Surely she took them off just to wash them. The princess worried her lower lip between her teeth, and hesitated.

"...Why do you wear them?"

_Ah_.

The captain swallowed the faint taste of tomato.

When an answer was not forthcoming, Anna spoke again. "You can trust me, Elsa. Remember, I promised you that?"

Elsa breathed in slowly, and extricated her hand from Anna's. She fiddled with the fingertip of her glove, and was acutely aware of Anna watching her. She nodded.

"I suppose it would be easier to let you see for yourself than to explain it to you," she admitted, tugging at the teal fabric, pulling off each glove by the middle and index fingertips with shaking hands. Anna watched, nervous.

The gloves came away. Anna made a small, strangled noise.

_Elsa's hands were covered in burns._

Every inch of skin on her hands, her slender fingers, and her wrists too were marred by old, faded scars from flame. Running in lines down the sides of each finger were deep imprints from the seams of the gloves. Elsa curled her hands into fists as if to hide the truth.

She nearly leapt in fright when Anna took her left hand into both of her own. Such a gentle touch was electric, and foreign. The hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end, like she had summoned static.

Anna brushed her thumb over each knuckle. Elsa's heart skipped a beat in a way that was totally out of place at this time. Textures were not something she was wholly used to experiencing on a regular basis. Her hands had far more nerves in them than the rest of her arm, that was for sure.

"Who _did_ this to you?"

Elsa looked up. There was only sympathy in her friend's eyes.

She hesitated. The truth sat on the tip of her tongue. _Say it or leave it forever._

"… I did."

Anna sat back like she'd taken a physical blow. There was a silence.

"Why would you do that to yourself?" Anna whispered.

Elsa wanted to curl her hands into fists again, or just get the damn gloves back on, but she curled her hand around Anna's instead. They were in the way. "Fire melts ice," she admitted, ashamed.

The silence stretched longer this time. It was suffocating and alien. Elsa could stand it no longer, and turned away.

Anna, for once in her life, processed this without talking. Elsa had thought it a viable option, at some point, to try literally burning the ice out of her. She brushed her thumb over Elsa's fingers again. What had driven her to think that? To _do_ that?

Anna lifted her hands to her face, and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of Elsa's.

The blonde straightened up quite quickly. "_Firefly_," she hissed.

Anna ignored her, and kissed her fingers tenderly.

Elsa squeaked through gritted teeth and pulled her hand away. Anna looked pretty offended that she'd done so. "Stop kissing my hand!" Elsa snipped in indignation. _Heavens forbid_ she become aroused.

"Well, how else am I supposed to tell you that _burning your hands_ was a _really_ dumb idea?" Anna exploded. "I have no idea what your life story is, that's pretty obvious, but you're really deprived of self-esteem and I needed to tell you that I _love_ your powers! I love _you_!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself and say _I love you_, we aren't—"

"No, we're not, I'm not stupid," Anna cut her off the subject of their romantic facade. "I love you because _you are my friend_. There are heaps of kinds of love, don't you know that? You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are! And _gods_, look at you! You have _magic_! The only other person I've ever heard of who has magic is my cousin!"

Elsa looked up in surprise. "Your cousin has magic?"

"Yeah, hers came from the sun. Anyway, I never thought that your powers were something to be ashamed of. I thought it was amazing that you could make weather like that!"

"Excuse me a moment, is your cousin the _Sun Mage_?" Elsa asked, dumbstruck.

"Yes, she's the Sun Mage, the Lost Princess, Rapunzel of Corona, the Heir of Life, whatever you want to call her. She's about your age, actually," Anna dismissed nonchalantly. "Man, magic is so rare, I'm amazed I've met _two_ magic users in my lifetime. And I'm _related_ to one of them!"

Elsa processed this incredibly interesting offhand information for a moment. She'd heard all about the Lost Princess of Corona, about how she was stolen for her gift; abused, tricked, _used_. It set off pangs of sympathy, deep and familiar. Those cruelties, she knew all too well.

And she'd kidnapped her cousin.

_Well_.

Anna took Elsa's hands again, her hands with the terrible self-inflicted burns, and just held them. "Elsa. You don't need to hurt yourself. Ever. Okay? People love you. _I_ do. Even though you're a terrible, terrible, evil pirate."

At this gesture of kindness Elsa broke into such a grateful smile, with such honesty and openness, that Anna was struck by the sheer emotion held in it.

"Maybe you've got powers too," Elsa said sincerely, but she raised her eyebrows and smirked anyway. "I wonder if it runs in the family."

"I'm part of the stars and the sky," Anna joked. "Just kidding, I'm more of a sea breezes and fjord horses kind of person, I think."

Elsa smiled, withdrawing one of her hands from Anna's and pointing at her face, and her pretty brown freckles. "You have constellations across your nose. Perhaps you _are_ the stars."

Anna giggled, and tucked her hair behind her ear. "No way. I wouldn't have magic. I'm just me. I'm an un-clever, completely ordinary girl who's really bad at metaphors, how could I have _magic_?"

Elsa placed the tip of her index finger over Anna's heart. "You have magic in here, Firefly."

Anna's heart fluttered. "You're joking," she laughed. But in all honesty, she was hoping it wasn't a joke.

Elsa bit her lip nervously. Did she dare? Yes she did.

She placed her hands on Anna's shoulders. The contact, the warmth, felt so comforting. "You have your own magic. It just doesn't manifest like mine, or your cousin's. Your magic is in your heart, and the way you connect with people." She reached up, and brushed a scarred thumb across the princess' freckles. "Constellations. See?"

She looked up from the freckles to see Anna's eyes reflecting more light than usual. She was tearing up.

"Are – Are you a poet, or something? You should write poetry," Anna said, voice tinging with emotion. "N-Nobody's been that nice to me before."

"No, Firefly, don't cry," Elsa comforted her. "Come on, hasn't Kristoff ever complimented you?"

Anna wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve and chuckled. "Yeah, of course. He uses actions more than words, and he does tell me really nice things, and he loves me dearly, but his compliments never sound like... like a poem." Her face fell. "I miss him so much."

Elsa softened. "People are all different. Come here," she said, opening her arms.

Anna smiled, and shuffled closer. They hugged, together in the low light. Anna hid her face in the crook where Elsa's shoulder met her neck, and revelled in the warmth she found there. Likewise, Elsa soaked up the raw warmth that Anna put out, like she had a fire in her.

The sun had sunk below the horizon long ago.

xXx

They broke apart to bathe one at a time. The en suite bathroom was tiny, barely holding room for a bath and a sink and a cabinet containing towels and a bar of soap. (The toilet was downstairs, just past the lobby.) To Anna's dismay, the only clothes they had were the ones they were wearing, so they both had to get back into the same.

Anna pulled the covers straight and burrowed underneath them straight away while Elsa spent her time in the bath. There was barely any light from the street lamps leaking in... Oh, the bed was soft, and the pillow felt like she was resting her head on a cloud, and everything was wonderfully _still_. She was so happy that she wasn't on _Thunderhead_, even for a single night.

She was nearly asleep when Elsa returned. She barely heard her place her boots at the bedside, and draw the curtain so it was dark. It was her weight displacing the bed that was the biggest giveaway of her presence.

Elsa lay down with her back facing Anna. It wouldn't do to make this any more intimate than it already looked. They lay in silence for a while.

"Elsa?"

She rolled over slightly. "Yes?"

Anna shifted onto her back. "I watch the stars, sometimes. _The sky's awake, so I'm awake_, I used to say." She laughed softly.

Elsa listened. "Really? I wasn't expecting it from you."

The sheets rustled a little when Anna shrugged. "Yeah, whenever I feel like it. I rug up warm and go out onto the balcony and watch the aurora. And the moon! And," she breathed in happily, "the stars."

Elsa could imagine the young royal sneaking out in the dead of night, and just sitting there, perfectly content. "I used to..." she began.

Anna looked at the back of her head, in the dark. "You used to watch the stars?"

"I used to go down to the shoreline, and throw shells into the sea. It was a childhood habit. Or, when it snowed, I would play outside, without a coat. My parents," she laughed, "they would always tell me, _wear a coat, snowflake, be warm,_ but I never did follow that advice. I never feel cold."

"Oh, that's fitting enough."

"I think so. I loved the nights where the moon was full. I always felt the most alive. To be honest, I still do. Those nights in winter where I would run down to the beach and play with my wind and snow, I was the happiest. But..."

"But what?" Anna prompted, when an answer was not forthcoming.

"But people thought I was a ghost, because I never wore a coat in the freezing cold, and my breath never fogged up in the air, and I was all by myself whipping up winds that would roll in from the sea."

Elsa stopped for breath. Anna didn't dare interrupt now.

"So one night, I was incarcerated. Found to have magic. Shot down, called possessed," Elsa bitterly recalled the ghosts of her past. "In a tiny, God-fearing community where magic was practically unheard of, I was a terrible omen. I was a young _witch_."

Anna rolled over in the dark, and spooned Elsa from behind in the closest hug she possibly could at the time, only partially aware of the way Elsa tensed up from the way they were now flush together. "Don't say any more right now," Anna whispered. "The past is—"

"—In the past. I know, Firefly, I know. I've heard the saying. I could run from my past or I could learn from it. I took the latter option. And here I am."

Anna smiled, and nuzzled the back of Elsa's neck. "Tell me the whole story another time?"

Elsa nodded, feeling drowsy now, and taking guilty pleasure in the way Anna was so _close_.

"Maybe," Elsa muttered, regretful of how much closer she'd gotten to Anna even while they had been talking, when she remembered the letter of ransom she had just posted. "Maybe one day, Firefly."


End file.
